


To Find You Again

by nightlight9



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 12 Days of Sterek, Brief Mentions of Canon, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Canon, getting to know each other again, reconnecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27996030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlight9/pseuds/nightlight9
Summary: The man standing on his porch waiting for him is unmistakable even after six years. Though his hair has grown out longer and there’s a scraggly beard covering his once bare chin, the unexpected guest is undoubtably Stiles.Derek swallows and tries to subtly catch a whiff of his scent. Then he swallows again when he smells nothing but the Colorado trees.“Stiles?” His mouth is dry. "What are you doing here?”Despite the bags under his eyes, Stiles’ smile is bright. “Hey, Derek. I-. It’s been a long time. Can I come in?”That's all it takes. Derek opens the door.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 45
Kudos: 353
Collections: 12 Days of Sterek





	To Find You Again

"Come on, Winnie,” Derek hollers in the direction of the large open field he calls his back yard. The air is crisp and just on the edge of chilly, even for him. Winter, it seems, is coming early this year. He should probably go into town and stock up on supplies to have on hand for when the snow comes. He learned his first winter at the house that it was never a bad idea to have extra food and blankets on hand. And he should definitely make sure that he has plenty of food for the dog. As sweet as she is, Derek has no doubt that his Australian shepherd would consider eating him if she got hungry enough.

Glancing over his shoulder, Derek watches as Winnie runs toward him. Her grin is wide enough that her tongue is hanging out of the side of her mouth as she approaches, and Derek can’t help smiling. When Luis mentioned that her dog had puppies ready to go to good homes, Derek wondered if he was in a place to take care of another living creature. She had finally convinced him to take one of the pups, and now two years later Derek knows that taking Winnie home was the best thing that he could have ever done for himself. 

Every time he sees Luis in town she gives him a proud nod and a knowing smirk. Derek can’t even be mad about it.

Winnie butts her snout against Derek’s thigh when she joins him on the porch and he leans down and rubs at her ears. “Come on you, we should head to town before it gets too dark. There are a few things that we need to pick up and if we can get it all done that would be great. Then maybe we can stop at the diner for dinner.”

Winnie barks and butts into his leg again before bounding off into the house on the way to the front door. Shaking his head at her antics, Derek collects his keys and follows after her.

Derek isn’t really surprised that he ended up in Colorado. He can remember, very vividly, a trip that he took with his family there when he was still small. Derek had instantly fallen in love with the forest there. Of course, at that point in time, it hadn’t quite compared to the trees in the preserve that he knew so well. But there was something comforting about them all the same. 

When Derek stumbled into town he just…couldn’t bring himself to leave. It wasn’t really his intention to stay. But, though he had some trouble admitting it especially after everything that he left behind, Derek wanted to belong somewhere. He wanted to have a home again. 

The timing of it couldn’t have been better because just when he decided to stay, the house on the border of town edging the woods went up for sell. With a decent plot of land and large windows that painted everything in bright sunlight, it was everything that Derek could have wanted. He only had to look at it once before everything was decided.

Maybe, before Laura…he might have figured out a way to stay in California. As hard as it was to think about it, Derek trusted her when she considered going back. She had believed that, regardless of everything that had happened, Beacon Hills was always meant to be theirs. It was their family’s land. It was their home. 

But Derek disagreed. Beacon Hills was not his home. Laura was. And going back to that place killed her. Going back to that town killed so many more people. No matter how centered the trees make him feel, the negativity that lingered in the shadows was something that Derek was never going to escape. And so he left. 

For a while afterwards, Derek felt guilty about it. He felt like he was running away. But it’s not like he left the land unprotected. Packing up the Camaro may have been selfish for him to do, but looking back Derek wouldn’t change his decision. 

The more time that he spends at his new house in Colorado, the more time he spends working to make it _his_ , the more centered he feels. There are still so many ghosts that haunt him, distance can’t change that. And there are also so many what-ifs that sneak up on him during his loneliest nights. But for the first time in years, Derek is proud of where he is. The trees may not be the trees that he grew up with, but every day they feel more familiar. He knows their secrets and they protect his, and things are better. 

On occasion, Derek will still think about Beacon Hills. He’ll think about the family he has buried there and hopes that they are okay with his decision to go. He thinks about Scott’s pack and wonders about whether or not they’re all happy and healthy and safe. 

But perhaps the biggest ghost that haunts him from that small, California town is more of a bittersweet regret than actual trauma. It’s the form of a boy with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind, who stood with Derek even when things got hard. And that, even after so many years away, is impossible to escape.

Settling onto one of the chairs set up on his back porch, Derek stares out across his yard and watches shadows stretch over the grass as the sun sets. A calm feeling of contentment settles over him. He never thought that he would get this. Never thought that he would get here. 

It’s more than he could ever ask for. 

Inside the house, the phone starts to ring. From her place at Derek’s feet, Winnie lifts her head up and glances in that direction, just as surprised as Derek is. He considers ignoring it, but decides against it. Whoever they are and whatever they need, it must be important enough that they’re calling him about it. 

By the time Derek makes it to the phone, the call has ended. But before he can check who it was, it rings again. 

Derek frowns and grabs for it. “Hello?”

Luis’ voice cracks over the line. “Derek? I hate to bother you at this hour, but it’s important.”

Instantly, Derek is on edge. “What is it? What’s up?”

He can hear her frown over the phone. “Someone just came into the diner looking for you.”

Confusion is a splash of cold water. “What? Who?”

She groans. “I don’t know, I didn’t have the chance to ask. Marty got to him before I could. The bastard told him where to find you too. I’ll have him apologize the next time he sees you, the old fool. I wanted to give you a heads up though. The kid-. Well, he seemed polite enough and Marty swears that he doesn’t have any bad intentions, but he looked a bit like trouble if you ask me.”

Derek exhales. “I-. Okay thanks for the heads up, Luis.”

“If you need anything, you call me back alright. We protect our own here. If someone’s come looking for problems I’ll show them what real trouble is.”

That makes Derek laugh. Gods, he adores her really. “Thanks Luis. I’ll call if I need you.”

The phone clicks off and Derek sighs. Winnie whines and looks in the direction of the back door, but Derek shakes his head. “We can’t go back outside, Win. Apparently we’re going to have a guest.” He wishes that Luis knew who it was so that he would have a better chance of preparing himself. Looking like trouble isn’t nearly enough of a description to give him any clues. But at least she warned him. He would rather be prepared for someone to knock on his door than be blindsided.

Settling onto the couch, Derek focuses on his senses. He stays there with his eyes closed, waiting for a scent or a sound or anything that might clue him in to who’s coming. And then there’s a knock on his door. Derek’s eyes fly open. 

He didn’t hear anyone come up the drive. He doesn’t sense anyone standing on the other side of his front door.

For a moment, Derek actually considers not answering. Whatever magic that the stranger used to hide their presence, it’s strong and Derek doesn’t want to tangle with it. But Marty already gave up his location. And as a second series of knocks comes, Derek decides that this isn’t something he can get out of. 

Gathering his nerves, Derek steels his expression. “Stay,” he tells Winnie as he gets off the couch. She whines, but otherwise stays put.

And then Derek opens the door. 

The man standing on his porch waiting for him is unmistakable. Though his hair has grown out longer, there’s a scraggly beard covering his once bare chin, and he looks fatigued enough that Derek can nearly feel his weariness, his unexpected guest is undoubtably Stiles. 

Derek swallows and tries to subtly catch a whiff of his scent. Then he swallows again when he smells nothing but the Colorado trees.

“Stiles?” His mouth is dry. "What are you doing here?”

Despite the bags under his eyes, Stiles’ smile is bright. “Hey, Derek. I-. It’s been a long time. Can I come in?”

It’s probably a bad idea. Letting Stiles into his home, into his den, after years of not seeing him, it’s probably a bad idea. But Derek nudges the door open wider anyway and steps to the side to let him in. 

Once he steps inside, Stiles freezes. He amber eyes seem to take every detail in. From the couch, Winnie whines. Derek looks over to see her wiggling where she sits, tongue lolling out of her mouth in a wide excited grin. It makes the tension leave Derek’s body. He rolls his eyes at her in a fond way.

“She wants to say hello,” he says softly, making note when Stiles jumps as though he had forgot that Derek was there at all. “If that’s okay with you.”

Two sharp nods later, Derek gestures Winnie over. With a bark, she runs across the living room, stopping just before she jumps on Stiles. Derek appreciates her restraint; he’s not sure that Stiles could stay standing if he was hit with her full weight. 

“What’s her name?” Stiles asks, bending down to pet at her ears softly. When she licks up his cheeks and wiggles closer to him, Stiles’ laughter fills the whole house. 

“Winnie.”

“Who’s the cutest?” Stiles coos, burying his face in the fur at her neck. “Who’s the cutest one?” He sways dangerously to one side, and Derek is forced to reach out to steady him. 

Stiles blinks up at him slowly and offers an embarrassed smile. “Sorry. I-. It’s been a long day.”

Derek only has to consider it for a split second. Yes, Stiles is here and yes he is practically a stranger now. It would be better to send him in the direction of the small motel in town. But it’s _Stiles_. 

That’s really the only thing that matters.

“Come on, you can have the bed.” There’s a moment where it appears that Stiles is actually going to protest. But Derek silences him with a look. Keeping one hand on Stiles’ back, Derek leads him to the bedroom. The room is spacious and simple and he can feel it when Stiles sees how large and soft the bed looks. He practically shudders at the sight.   
“I should shower,” he murmurs, already swaying under his exhaustion. Derek just huffs and bends down to start unlacing his boots. “What are you-?”

“Don’t worry about it. You look dead on your feet. Rest. We’ll worry about everything else in the morning.”

There are no protests from Stiles, which is surprising considering that arguing has always been his forte. Instead he stumbles closer to the bed and falls down on top of the comforter. For a moment, Derek waits to see if he’s going to rearrange himself. But he’s already fallen asleep. So, with a sigh, Derek takes over. He finishes taking his shoes off and puts them neatly by the side of the bed. Briefly he considers ridding Stiles of his pants too so that he will be more comfortable, but he doesn’t really want to deal with that in the morning. So instead he leaves Stiles fully dressed and he gets him under the covers. 

Winnie jumps up on the bed as soon as he’s finished, curling up against Stiles’ legs like she normally does Derek’s. The sight is sweet enough that Derek doesn’t chase her down. “Keep an eye on him,” he says instead before retreating back to the living room. 

Before he does anything else, Derek calls Luis to let her know that everything is alright. “He’s an old friend,” he reassures her, even though the words taste a little like a lie. Then he makes himself a mug of tea. What could Stiles be doing here? How did he even find him? Derek made sure that he left no traces when he ran from Beacon Hills. He didn’t want to risk anyone coming to drag him back to that place. 

And yet, here Stiles is. 

Honestly, it’s not the most surprising thing in the world. 

Knowing that he’s not going to be able to get any rest, Derek gets up, rinses his mug out in the kitchen sink, and heads towards the back door. He leaves his clothes on a chair set up just inside for that exact purpose, then steps outside and sheds his human skin.

If there is one thing that brings Derek comfort, it’s knowing that he can do this. As a wolf, everything is so much more simple. Emotions are softer and less confusing, and there’s nothing quite like running through the trees that can expel any grief or guilt that Derek may have been feeling. 

He runs for a long while, enjoying the feeling of the moon on his back and the solid earth under his feet. And when he finally returns to the house, he doesn’t bother shifting back. Instead he hops into his favorite armchair and closes his eyes. He can hear Stiles’ soft breathes from the bedroom and Winnie’s huffs as she dreams, and the wolf feels comforted enough that he manages to fall into an easy slumber. 

In the morning, Derek shifts back and showers, doing his best not to disturb Stiles. Winnie watches as he bustles around the room for his clothes and drags some out that will fit Stiles too, but she stays on the bed with him. Even afterwards, when Derek goes out into the backyard to patrol the perimeter (some habits die hard), she stays with Stiles. Derek doesn’t blame her. At some point during the night, whatever magic Stiles had been using wore off. Now the bedroom smells like summer rainstorms, green apples and bright lightening. It’s a smell that, even after years of having no contact, Derek would know anywhere. 

He’s not sure if that is a blessing or a curse. Hell, he spent so long trying not to think too much about Stiles and now that he’s back it feels futile, as though nothing has changed at all. And Derek is surprisingly okay with that. He likes knowing that Stiles is in the adjacent room, sleeping easy.

Despite the fact that Stiles fell asleep so quickly, he doesn’t wake up until dinner time. Derek started dinner earlier, making his favorite comfort food in hopes that Stiles will appreciate the warmth. So when he hears Stiles begin to stir, all he has to do is get up and start putting everything together. 

It feels kind of nice putting two place settings down on the small kitchen table, especially knowing who the other one is for.

“W’as tha’ smell-,” Stiles grumbles as he stumbles out of the bedroom rubbing his eyes. He looks so much softer than he did before, even with the wild hair and the beard. 

Something in Derek’s chest pangs at the fact that Stiles still trusts him in this vulnerable state.

“It’s nothing too fancy,” Derek responds, turning back towards the counter so he can finish plating everything up. “Just some pot roast and garlic smashed potatoes.”

Stiles groans in appreciation and folds himself down at the table. With a smile that’s just a little too fond, Derek clicks on the coffee pot before gathering the bowls and putting everything on the table. 

As soon as Derek joins him, Stiles looks up at him with a guarded expression. He seems a lot more awake now, and more weary. Derek just pushes his bowl closer. “Eat. Whatever you’re worried about can wait until after dinner.”

That makes Stiles deflate. When he smiles, it’s full of gratitude and a bit of embarrassment. “Thank you,” he mutters before tucking into his food. The first bite makes him moan, and Derek is proud of himself when the noise only makes one eyebrow twitch.

“What the hell,” he says around another spoonful. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

Surprisingly, that makes Derek laugh. Stiles looks at him as though he’s lost his mind. “It was something that I liked to do with my dad before the fire, which is good because Laura couldn’t cook for anything. She could burn water, I swear. So I’ve always been able to cook, I just didn’t have much time back in Beacon Hills to show off my culinary skills.”

It’s really no surprise that Stiles tilts his head at Derek with an expression of disbelief. He knows that he’s changed a lot since leaving Beacon Hills. He’s made huge steps forward, and he’s proud of himself.

Stiles swallows his bite and offers a small smile. “Well, it’s good. Thank you.” His scent is filled with warm pleasure. He doesn’t comment on how much Derek has changed, focusing instead on finishing his food. When he’s done, Derek wordlessly offers him another portion, which Stiles accepts with a grateful smile and they eat in a companionable silence. 

Afterwards, Derek gets them both a mug of coffee, stirring milk and sugar into Stiles’ hoping that he still takes it the same way he did so many years ago. Then he leads them to the back porch, settling into the deck chairs that luckily came as a pair when he got them. Winnie follows them outside, running into the yard with a happy bark. 

“It’s nice here,” Stiles says softly after they watch her prance around for a few minutes. There’s an edge in his voice that Derek recognizes all too well: longing. 

He doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he smiles softly and agrees. “Yeah. I like it.”

“I’m sorry.” Derek looks over at him, but Stiles keeps his eyes resolutely forward. “For just showing up like this. I-.” He clears his throat, glancing briefly over at Derek before looking back at the trees. “I’ve known where you’ve been for years but didn’t want to intrude on the life you built here.”

Raising one eyebrow, Derek asks, “What changed?” He doesn’t mean it in a harsh way; he doesn’t really see Stiles’ presence as an intrusion at all. But he’s curious to what brought Stiles here especially if what he’s saying is true. 

Exhaling, Stiles finally turns to look him in the eye. He looks so much older now. “A job I was working went wrong. Really wrong.” He sighs and rubs his face. “I guess I should explain what it is I do.” His laugh is a little bitter. “So, after I finished up at school, I went into the FBI just like I planned. But not even two months in, I was recruited to join a special task force focused on working supernatural cases.”

Derek raises his eyebrows. A part of him has always suspected that the government had some knowledge of the supernatural world, but hearing it confirmed is surprising. He gestures for Stiles to continue. 

“So, anyway. I became a part of this team of badasses who deal with supernatural problems. And even though I had wanted away from the fight or die lifestyle after everything went down in Beacon Hills, I liked the job. It was nice, partnering with people that wanted to keep everyone, supernatural beings and humans alike, alive and safe. And for a few years, it was good. Then I got put on this mission, a long term infiltration that was supposed to break up a pixie smuggling ring; yes that is as crazy as it sounds. That’s where things went wrong.” His heartbeat picks up a few notches and Derek has to resist the urge to reach over and take his hand.

“My cover was blown, and I nearly died when the smugglers came after me. Luckily my team was close enough that they saved my life. Hell, I even managed to get enough evidence to put a stop to the ring and save a bunch of pixies. But afterwards-. I don’t know. My boss thought that I needed some time off to recover.”

He trails off, but Derek is able to put the pieces together. “So you came here.”

Stiles shrugs. “I didn’t want to go home. My dad would have freaked out, knowing how close I came to dying. That’s the same reason I couldn’t go to Scott. Besides when I think about taking a break and getting some rest, I don’t think about Beacon Hills. That place is still too much for me sometimes. Honestly, laying in that hospital bed, the only thing I thought about was seeing you. And, well. You know the rest I guess.”

The admission feels like a punch to the solar plexus, but Derek manages not to react. 

Scrubbing harder at his face, Stiles looks back out over the lawn. “You don’t have to let me stay here. I know how freaking weird it is, me just showing up like this. The team offered to let me stay at a house in Hawaii that they use to relax. I just-. I don’t know. I had to at least come see you. I was so proud of you for getting out, which is why I didn’t come and find you sooner. But when I woke up in the hospital wing, well-. It doesn’t matter. I’m here now I guess, and that’s all there is.”

“You can stay with me,” Derek says softly before taking a drink of his coffee. Stiles’ head snaps over to stare at him, mouth falling open in surprise. Derek doesn’t look away. “I don’t mind having you here, and I’m not going to make you leave. There’s only one bed, but I spend a lot of time in my wolf form at night and it’s not bother for me to sleep that way. Besides, the couch is actually pretty comfortable. Tomorrow we’ll have to go back to town and get some more groceries. I just went shopping, but it won’t be enough for the both of us if the snow comes early.”

“You’ll let me stay here,” Stiles breathes out in awe. “I-. Really?”

How does Derek tell him that he’s missed him? How does he tell Stiles that hearing him say that he thinks of Derek as a safe place makes his heart beat a little faster? How does he let him know that Stiles was the only thing he felt bad walking away from?

He doesn’t. Instead he just smiles softly and says, “Yes, really. You’re not intruding or whatever crap you’re telling yourself. So don’t worry about it, okay. If you need a safe place to relax, this can be your place.”

Stiles ducks his head, but Derek isn’t worried. His scent is clear and bright, telling Derek more than his mouth ever could. He’s content to sit with him in a soft silence as long as he likes. 

“Thank you,” Stiles whispers finally. 

Against his mug, Derek hides a smile. “Any time.” The words feel like he’s giving away some big secret, but he doesn’t take them back. Not for Stiles. 

Winnie trots back to the porch, out of breath and happy after her run. She settles down at Derek’s feet, and the three of them stay out there until all tendrils of light have vanished from the sky and Stiles is stifling a yawn against his elbow. 

“Come on,” Derek says, getting to his feet. Reaching out, he takes Stiles’ mug and steps inside. Rinsing both mugs out, he sits them on the counter by the coffee pot, ignoring the pang in his chest at seeing them together. 

“Can I shower?” Stiles asks, sounding genuinely worried that Derek is going to say no. 

“Of course. This wouldn’t be a good vacation if I didn’t let you clean up the whole time. You didn’t come in with a bag or anything, so I left some clothes out on the dresser that should fit you, and if you want to shave the razor is on the bathroom counter.”

Touching his beard with an absent mind, Stiles laughs. “I forgot about this thing. I was on that case for awhile, and then with the stay in the hospital it got out of control. I’ll leave the scruff to you, thank you very much. You do it a lot better.”

With an eye roll used to cover up how pleased that little comment makes him feel, Derek gestures towards the bathroom. “I’ll get you a towel if you’ll get the clothes.”

Like a man on a mission, Stiles nods and heads in the direction of the bedroom, meeting Derek in the bathroom only minutes later with a pensive expression. 

“What’s wrong?”

Swallowing, he meets Derek’s gaze in the mirror. “Would you cut my hair? I don’t like how long it is, but I can’t do it by myself.”

He considers it. On one hand, he should just take Stiles to Jill and have her cut his hair for him. She’s a professional and would definitely do a better job than Derek would. But Stiles is asking if _he’ll do it himself_ , not if he knows somewhere he could get it done. And Derek won’t deny him.

“You want it done now?” Stiles shrugs. “Okay, come on. We’ll do it in the kitchen. There’s more space in there.”

The scissors that he has definitely are not made for this. But Stiles sits before him and holds himself still while Derek cuts through the strands, and Derek does his best. There’s something almost intimate about cutting Stiles’ hair. The back of his fingers keep brushing up against the soft skin of Stiles’ neck, and Derek feels honored knowing that Stiles trusts him to be so close, with a sharp object no less.

The end result doesn’t actually look bad, which Derek silently attributes to the few times he had to cut Laura’s hair in the years between the fire and them finally settling down in New York. “There,” Derek says, letting his fingers linger against Stiles’ pulse point for a moment longer. “All done.”

Stiles shakes out his head, reminiscent of a dog after a bath, and breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Der. I already feel a lot better.”

The nickname, which is at once familiar and yet not, makes Derek’s heart stutter. He’s lucky, not for the first time, that Stiles is not a werewolf. Otherwise, the secrets that Derek keeps close to his heart would be given up so easily in instances like this. “Go and shower,” he says, pulling away from Stiles so he can clean everything up.

Instead of arguing when Derek grabs at the broom, Stiles offers a grateful smile and disappears back towards the bathroom. Derek is happy for the space between them. 

It shouldn’t be like this. After all of these years, Stiles shouldn’t be able to affect him the way that he does. Looking back, Derek can never pinpoint when his feelings towards Stiles started to change. For so long, he was a begrudging ally that slowly became an uneasy friend. And then, before Derek even knew it, Stiles became not only someone whom he trusted with his life, but also someone who he would give his up for if it came to that. Which, after years of trusting no-one but his sister, was more than a little frightening. That being said, Derek wasn’t really that surprised when he realized that Stiles was his anchor. Even though their rocky past couldn’t have predicted it, the way that Stiles challenged him kept his human nature and that of the wolf bound together. 

The fondness and adoration came after that, long after that. Doing anything about it wasn’t something that Derek even let himself consider. Stiles was too young, too inexperienced, and Derek knew that he couldn’t mess that up. He wasn’t going to be like Kate, no matter how pure his feelings were. 

That was when Derek left. Maybe, in terms of leaving Stiles behind, he really was running away. But he needed out of Beacon Hills and he wasn’t in the place to even consider asking Stiles to leave with him, Stiles who had his whole life ahead of him. Derek wasn’t going to ask him to bind himself to a lost and depressed werewolf who didn’t really know who he was anymore or what he was doing with his life.

Now, things are better. They’re so much better. Derek himself has come so far, and he’s proud. But even with all of the parts of himself that have changed and grown, his feelings for Stiles apparently haven’t. 

As he sweeps, Derek makes the promise to himself not to let any residual feelings for Stiles get in the way of getting to know him again. He feels good knowing that Stiles trusts him to provide a safe and relaxing place away from the world, and he’s happy to deliver just that. Plus, he’s looking forward to getting to know how he’s changed. Five years may not seem like too long of a time for some people, but Derek knows just how quickly time can change everything. 

“What have we gotten ourselves into, Winnie,” he asks as he finishes cleaning up. 

Winnie yips at him from her perch on the couch, and Derek decides that she’s trying to be supportive.

While he waits for Stiles to finish up in the bathroom, Derek settles into his chair to read. It takes a while before Derek hears the water of the shower turn off. Then a few minutes later, Stiles stumbles out in a cloud of steam and sleepy smiles. If Stiles with a beard could give Derek pause, Stiles without one is almost too much to deal with, especially while he’s wearing Derek’s clothes. He’s just as beautiful as the Stiles from Derek’s memories, but now he looks more grown up. There’s an edge to his jaw that hadn’t been there when he was in high school and it makes him look more settled in his skin.

Derek swallows, remembers the promise that he made, and smiles. “Feel better?”

Sighing with his whole body, Stiles folds himself down on the couch beside Winnie. “So much better. Like, I didn’t mind the beard. But I don’t have the patience to take care of it. I like this better. Makes me feel more human.”

Derek hums in consideration, then watches as Stiles lays down to bury his face in the fur at Winnie’s side. Her tongue lolls out in response, and Stiles rubs her stomach.

“You should go to bed,” Derek says softly. 

Stiles blinks his eyes open at him. “Wha-? Why?” Even as he says it, a yawn splits his jaw. He smiles sheepishly at Derek afterwards. “Okay, you’re probably right. But tomorrow I’m staying up with you, you got that? I’m just still trying to recover.”

“Of course, Stiles. Goodnight.”

He watches Stiles disappear back into the bedroom, Winnie following faithfully after him. Then, after he hears Stiles get into bed, Derek gets up and sheds his skin. He wasn’t lying to Stiles when he told him that he does this most nights. It’s comforting, being able to run under the moon without the fear of being caught by hunters. Derek has fond memories of his mother’s full wolf shift, and so in a way running like this makes him feel closer to her too. 

He doesn’t stay out as long as he did the night before; he’s a little tired too and expects to have a busy day tomorrow. So, after a quick run through the woods, Derek returns to the house, jumps into his chair, and falls asleep. 

In the morning, Derek gets up early and gets ready to take Stiles into town. The air is crisp as he sips at his coffee, a sign that the snow will be coming any day. He wants to get to town as early as they can, just in case the weather turns. 

As if summoned from his thoughts, Stiles stumbles out of the bedroom. He’s wearing the set of clothes that Derek left out for him, and he smells sleepy and warm and like _them_ enough that Derek nearly snorts coffee through his nose.

“Good morning,” he says after a coughing fit. “There’s coffee for you the counter but we’ll get breakfast in town if that’s alright.”

Saluting him, Stiles grabs for his mug. He seems a lot more coherent as his hands close around it and he takes the first sip. 

Derek bustles around the kitchen long enough for Stiles to finish his coffee. And then he gets everything ready for their trip to town. “I figured we could start with breakfast and then hit the stores. If there is anything that you need, make sure you get it okay. Who knows when the snow will hit and we’ll be stuck here.”

Instead of frowning at the implication of being trapped at the house, the statement makes Stiles perk up a little. “Okay, I will.”

Winnie is already sitting by the front door, tail wagging, when they’re finally ready to leave. 

“She’s so cute,” Stiles says, bending down to scratch her ears. Stopping beside Stiles long enough to pat her head, Derek agrees. 

“She’s probably the best thing that’s happened to me,” Derek says softly, smiling down at her. When he looks up, Stiles is watching him. His expression is impossible to read, but something about it makes Derek’s heart beat a little faster. “We’ll take her with us, but she’ll stay with a friend while we eat and shop, that way she doesn’t have to stay in the car.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Stiles agrees, pulling the door open. Winnie dashes to the car then sits primly alongside it waiting for the door to be opened. Derek smiles at her enthusiasm, an expression that is echoed on Stiles face. It only takes a few moments before they all get settled, and then Derek starts the car, turns the heater on, and pulls out of his drive. 

As they make their way back into town, Stiles keeps quiet. Finally, it bothers Derek enough that he has to say something.

“What are you thinking about?”

Stiles startles in an achingly familiar way, and a blush climbs high on his cheekbones. “I was-. It’s just-.” He exhales sharply through his nose. “This truck is nice. Very practical. I just miss the Camaro. I can’t really imagine you not driving it.”

A grin teases Derek’s lips. “The Camaro isn’t ideal for Colorado winters.”

“I know. It’s just weird to me.” He sounds put off about it in a pouty way.

That makes Derek laugh. “Stiles, I still have the car. It’s just put away in the garage back home. I may not be able to drive it during the winter, but there was no way I was going to get rid of it.”

Glancing over at him, Derek watches as Stiles relaxes back, seeming at ease now that he knows that Derek still has the car. “Good. I was kinda freaking out thinking that it might be gone. Is that weird?” He pauses, then jumps back in. “I still have the jeep. It’s not the car that I drive most of the time now, but I couldn’t get rid of it. Rosco is my heart and soul. I even paid to have her all fixed up good as new.”

“It’s kind of funny how we get attached to things like that. I mean, that there are just those things that mean so much to us that even thinking about not having them anymore makes our chests tight.”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes, sounding almost wistful. Derek looks back over at him, curious as to what would make him sound like that, but he’s looking out the window. Derek lets the subject drop, allowing the rest of the drive to pass in a soft silence broken only by the quiet sounds of the radio. 

When they get to town, Derek parks at the diner and gathers Winnie’s leash. Stiles follows him curiously as they walk across the street to where the bookstore sits unassuming on the corner. Elle is behind the corner when they open the door, and Derek can hear Lucy puttering around in the back room. 

“Hey, Derek,” Elle greets with a smile. She comes around the desk, leans down to scratch Winnie’s ears, then extends her hand towards Stiles. “I’m Elle, you must be a friend of Derek’s.”

While Stiles takes her hand and introduces himself, Derek glares. It’s clear that Elle already knew about Stiles being there, which means that Luis mentioned it to her, which means that half the town probably knows. 

Elle winks at him, then hollers to the back, “Lucy, Derek is here!”

Something heavy hits the ground then Lucy yells back, “Did he bring his friend?”

It makes Derek sigh and Elle laugh. Stiles watches the whole ordeal with barely concealed amusement. Lucy comes out of the backroom with a wide smile and a small box of cookies. Derek knows that they’re lemon drops, can smell the citrus glaze from the door. It makes him decide not to say anything about their teasing. 

Lucy, at twenty-seven, is the embodiment of a sweet stereotypical grandmother, and so as soon as she joins them she leans into Derek’s space to kiss his cheek and then press the box of cookies into his hands. “I was hoping you would come to town. Those are fresh.”

If there’s one thing that he can never resist, it’s Lucy’s baking. He already has the box open and a cookie pressed between his teeth, which is why he’s completely unprepared when Lucy smiles at Stiles in an intimidating way. “So, you’re Derek’s friend. Funny, I don’t know that he’s ever mentioned you before. How long have you known him?” Derek chokes on the sweet lemon goodness.

“And why haven’t you visited before?” Elle adds, standing behind Lucy and crossing her arms. Between one blink and the next, this turned from a friendly introduction to an interrogation. 

Derek swallows the rest of the cookie whole. “Guys!”

A pleased laugh escapes Stiles, and his grin is stretched wide. “It’s fine, Derek. They’re protective of you!” He sounds like he thinks that is the best thing in the world. “I’ve known Derek for a few years. We’re from the same town. As for why I haven’t visited, well I was in school and then I got a job right out of college where I travel a lot so I didn’t have the chance. It’s an excuse, I know. But I hope to be around more now.”

His heartbeat stays steady, and if the sideways glance he gives Derek is any indication, he knows that Derek knows that. Derek hides his pleased smile behind another cookie. Elle looks at him like she knows all of his secrets. 

Lucy nods, seemingly satisfied, and returns to her friendly grandmotherly demeanor. “Good, that’s good.” She smacks at Derek’s arm. “You better share some of those cookies with your friend, young man!”

He cocks one eyebrow. “I’m older than you, remember?”

That makes both women snort. “And I’m wiser, we’ve been over this, remember? Everyone knows I’m the town grandmother. You only complain when I use it against you.”

Derek sighs, but it’s mostly for show. It’s true. Her kind heart and perchance for pinching cheeks and offering baked goods makes her a very good, albeit very young, town grandmother.

“Would you like us to watch Winnie for you?” Elle asks after she stops laughing at him.

Derek smiles down at his dog. “Yeah. Stiles and I have a few things to take care of, and I don’t want to leave her in the car.”

“Of course, hun. You knows we’re always happy to watch her. Niko is in the back. He’ll be happy to have a playmate for a few hours.”

Winnie perks up when she hears Niko’s name. The large German Shepard is one of her favorite friends. Derek gets down on one knee to rub at her ears. “Alright, Win. You’re going to stay here with Elle and Lucy. Behave, okay?”

Lucy pats his shoulder. “She’s always good. A perfect angel.”

“Especially in comparison with Duke or Karma. I don’t know what you did to train this one, but she really is a great dog.”

The statement makes Derek smile. Training Winnie wasn’t really that hard, but he won’t tell them that. Instead he unhooks Winnie’s leash and gets back to his feet. “Thanks a lot, guys. We’ll try to hurry.”

“Really, don’t rush. We don’t mind watching her at all.”

As if to puncture that statement, Lucy starts walking towards the back room. “Come on, Win. Niko is back here.”

Winnie trots after her without hesitation, and Derek watches them for a moment before turning toward the door. “Alright, come on Stiles. Thanks again, Elle.”

She waves them off, and Derek leads them back across the street to the diner. After they get seated, Stiles turns and grins at Derek. “They seemed nice.” Luis is working today, like normal, but she’s caught up at another table and can’t come over right away. That doesn’t stop her from watching them with a curious expression. 

Rolling his eyes, Derek huffs. “They’re menaces.”

Settling his head on his hand, Stiles watches Derek closely. “They care a lot about you.”

“Yeah. It’s-. Living here isn’t much different from living in Beacon Hills. Everyone knows everyone, you know. And they take care of one another. When I moved in, I tried to keep to myself. But that’s just not how places like this work. And that’s-. I forgot how nice it is to have people genuinely care about my wellbeing.”

Stiles hums, but he doesn’t argue which Derek appreciates. He knows that Stiles cared about him to a point, but the other people he left behind in Beacon Hills didn’t, and that was okay. He was an outsider and their ragtag group was just forced together in order to survive. When they grew together into a real pack, Derek stayed on the outside and watched them come together. They weren’t his, and being in Scott’s pack wasn’t for him, and that was okay too. Derek didn’t need to be needed by them. 

Moving to Colorado was different though. Because he didn’t have anyone care for so long, it was a shock when the people in town refused _not_ to care about him. They forced him out of his shell and into the community because they genuinely wanted him there. And even though it was weird at first and it made him endlessly uncomfortable, eventually he grew to trust them and enjoy their company too. He belongs to them and them to him and it’s nice. It’s home.

“This has been really good for you, hasn’t it,” Stiles asks, though he doesn’t phrase it as a question. It’s a statement, said so softly. But he sounds happy about it. The longing is back in his voice and Derek wants to address it, but he’s never been good at finding the right words. He wants to ask but doesn’t know how without offending Stiles in some way. So, like before, he lets it go. 

Finally, Luis shows at at the table. Her smile is just a little too wide. “Well, good morning you two. Derek, I’m glad to see that your friend found you.” She turns on Stiles, quick as a whip. “I’m Luis, owner of this fine establishment. I know that you came in the other day but I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself. Glad to see you got yourself cleaned up.”

Stiles’ smile is sharp, but in more of a challenging way than anything else. He sees what Luis is doing and he’s not going to shy away from meeting her head on. That’s just not his style. “Sorry about that. I just came in looking for Derek. If I had known that you were in charge, surely I would have asked you where I could find him.”

Derek can feel his eye twitch. “Nope. No. We’re not doing this.” He shakes his head, and stares them both down. “Whatever weird as hell posturing you guys are doing, stop. Stiles, this is my friend Luis. She’s the one who gave me Winnie. The night you got here she called to make sure that you weren’t going to cause me any trouble. Luis, this is Stiles. He’s a friend of mine who I haven’t seen in a while but he means me no harm. You both can stop it right now.”

They both blink at him in surprise. Finally, Luis laughs. “Derek, way to stick up for yourself and your friend. Ruined my fun, but that’s alright. Welcome to town, Stiles. It’s good to meet one of Derek’s friends. If he trusts you, so do I. Now, what can I get you?”

Something occurs to Derek, but he doesn’t bring it up until after their orders are taken and Luis is gone. “There’s something I don’t understand,” he says slowly. “If you knew where I was like you said the other night, why did you stop in here and ask about me?”

Stiles shrugs, chasing after his straw to take a big drink of water before responding. “I knew that you lived somewhere in town, but I didn’t know how to get there. I would have googled it, but my phone died sometime before I boarded the plane. Asking about it seemed like the best way to find you, seeing as the only other choice would have been wandering around until you figured out I was here.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” Derek says softly. “Even if I had gone to town, I wouldn’t have known. That first day, your scent was missing. I didn’t even feel your presence on the other side of the door when you showed up.”

Color lights Stiles’ cheeks. “Oh, yeah. We have these suppressants we have to take so that it’s harder to track us. Technically we’re only supposed to take them on missions, but it became habit just to keep taking them seeing as our jobs are typically so close together. Hell, even while I was in the hospital they were giving them to me. But-. I don’t want to take them while I’m here. I don’t want to hide, especially from you. So when I got out and decided where I was going, I left the suppressants behind. Unfortunately it takes a few days before the affect wears off.”

“That’s-.” Derek hasn’t heard anything like that. Even when people have used magic to mask their scents, there is always some residual scent. It was like Stiles stop existing altogether. 

Luis comes back with their orders and a pot of coffee. She stays and chats for a few minutes, seemingly at ease now that she’s had her chance to try and intimidate Stiles. She falls into an easy camaraderie with Stiles, both of them taking friendly jabs at each other during the discussion. Derek rolls his eyes at the display, but his chest warms knowing that Stiles gets along with the people he’s come to like in town. 

When they’re finished, Derek pays before Stiles has the chance to offer, though he doesn’t miss the fact that Stiles leaves a big tip behind at their table. Before they make it to the door, Luis catches Stiles’ elbow. She hasn’t been to the table yet, so whatever has her looking determined has nothing to do with her tip.

“Hey, Derek. You go on ahead, I just want a second with Stiles.”

Derek raises his eyebrows at her and doesn’t move away until Stiles gives him the okay. He’s tempted to stay inside the restaurant so that he can hear whatever it is Luis wants to tell him, but decides to go to the truck instead. It’s not his place to eavesdrop, no matter how much he wants to.

It only takes a few minutes before Stiles stumbles outside. His cheeks are flushed but his scent is filled with warm pleasure. Derek waits until he’s buckled in to ask what Luis wanted.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stiles responds, turning to smile out the window. “Everything is alright, she didn’t threaten me or anything. And what she had to say was for my ears only, thank you very much.”

Derek’s not too worried. If Stiles is happy about whatever it is, then Derek won’t bring it up again. “So, when we get to the store is there anything that you’d like to pick up? And are there any specific dinners you would like to have?”

Stiles shrugs, watching as the town passes by. “I’m good eating whatever you’d like. I’m not a picky eater, and even though I tried my best when I was in high school I’m not the best cook either. But-. Maybe we can make homemade Mac and Cheese? And chili?”

Derek smiles softly. If there is one thing that he knows how to do well, it’s comfort food. Stiles has no idea what he’s getting himself in to. By the time he leaves, he’s going to be so full of comfort food and relaxation he’s not going to know what to do.

“I can do that,” Derek agrees, already thinking about different meals he can make.

“And I need a toothbrush. I’ve just been using my finger to get my teeth clean and it is not enough, let me tell you.” Derek snorts, and Stiles grins over at him. “Other than that, maybe I can pick up a few pairs of sweats or something? That way I don’t have to keep stealing all of your clothes.”

He wants to say that he doesn’t mind. Because he really doesn’t. Stiles smells like _him_ , and as far as Derek is concerned that is definitely not a bad thing. But he understands the comfort that comes from having your own clothes, so he keeps his mouth shut. 

Shopping with Stiles was not something that Derek had the chance to do when he was in Beacon Hills. They didn’t have much of a chance to wander around Target together and argue about whether or not Stiles needs to get a new blankest just to have around and whether or not they need to buy more pillows. It’s fun and feels startlingly domestic when Stiles slides up against Derek’s side while he’s picking out tomatoes, adding extra ones to the bag. Honestly, Derek never would have thought that shopping could be fun, but as they stand at the register and argue about who gets to pay, Derek finds himself laughing more than he has in a while. He feels light, pushing their cart out to the truck with a smug expression while Stiles munches grumpily on the candy he snuck in the cart at the register. 

“I could have paid,” he grumbles around a mouth full of chocolate as they drive back towards the bookstore.

Derek can’t stop smiling. “I know. I wanted to though. And, FBI training or not, I’m still stronger than you.”

When Stiles starts mumbling under his breath, Derek politely ignores him. He knows that Stiles isn’t really upset; his scent has been warm and bright all day. It’s a heady feeling, knowing that it’s because of him. 

The air is colder when they get to the bookstore, grey clouds obscuring the bright sunlight with a colder chill.

Lucy is with a customer when they come in, but that’s alright. Stiles disappears into the stacks almost immediately, and Derek goes in search of Elle.

Unsurprisingly she’s in the back room, sprawled out across the couch there. Winnie is curled up with Niko on one of the threadbare dog beds. She opens one eye when Derek pushes through the little gate in front of the door, but she doesn’t get up. If anything, she seems to curl a little closer to Niko.

Derek rolls his eyes at her and flops down in one of the worn armchairs across from the couch. Elle grins over at him. Like Winnie, she doesn’t bother to get up, choosing to stare at him from her reclined position instead.

“How was shopping?”

He stretches out his legs. “It was good.” So suddenly it actually startles him, Elle sits up. Her eyes are big and intense. His heart trips and then races at the sudden movement, and he focuses his senses on where Stiles is moving through the store, feeling better when he hears how steady his heartbeat is. “What? What is it?”

Her mouth drops open. “Woah.” He blinks at her. “Derek, I didn’t know this was a big thing. That _he_ was.”

Locking his expression into something hard and unfeeling, Derek says, “I don’t know what you mean.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Bull shit. You know exactly what I’m talking about, and the fact that you’re pretending otherwise means that I’m right.” She kicks her foot out enough that she can gently push the tip of her shoe against his knee. “Derek, that’s not a bad thing.”

When he had first moved into town, Elle was the first person to show up at his doorstep to greet him. And as much as he tried not to think about it in the beginning, Derek liked her so much because she reminded him of Laura. With a teasing smile and a sharp tongue, it was impossible not to draw the comparisons. It still wasn’t easy to let her under all of his walls, but he’s glad that he did. Because, like Laura had been before, Elle has become his best friend

So, lying to her is actually worse than lying to himself. Exhaling, he lets his expression soften. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not-. He doesn’t know, and I’m not going to tell him.”

She snorts. “He’d have to be blind not to see it.”

“He is.”

“Does he know? About, you know.” She raises her hands up to her mouth, folding her fingers to imitate claws, and growls. Derek laughs. Elle is human, but she grew up around werewolves and practices a little magic herself. She’s one of the few people that know his secret in town.

“Yeah, he knows. He-. When everything was going down back in Beacon Hills, he was one of the people that got caught up in the middle of it.”

She lays back down, throwing her hands behind her head. “Then why not say something about it? Derek, if I had to guess, the feeling goes both ways. I’ve watched the way that he looks at you.”

He doesn’t want to know, shouldn’t ask but-, “how does he look at me?”

Her eyes are bright and mischievous when she looks at him. “Like he’s the werewolf and you’re the moon that he revolves around.” When all he does is raise an eyebrow in disbelief (and abject horror at her terrible simile) she cackles. “I’m serious!”

“Your poetic prowess needs some work,” he says, deadpan.

Her laughter fills the room. “Oh yeah, and you would know Mr. Editor?”

He sticks his nose up at her. “Yes, I would.”

“I’m being serious though, Derek. I would bet my car that he feels the same.”

“I’m not going to bet the Camaro,” he mutters, trying not to believe what she’s saying. It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ Stiles to feel the same. Because honestly, he’s had dreams about what it would be like if Stiles cared for him like that. But it’s not really fair for him to hope for it, especially not now.

Lucy choose that moment to stick her head into the room, a frown on her lips. “You two are betting in here? What have I told you about that?” 

Elle nearly falls off the couch. “It was for a good cause this time,” she whines, trying to twist her body around so that she can see the door without straining her neck. 

Derek blinks at her, expression carefully blank. “We weren’t betting. Elle just keeps trying to trick me out of my car.”

Stiles steps into the doorway with a wide grin. “The Camaro?” He pretends to glare at Elle, though his lips keep twitching. “Hey, I have first dibs on that car. Derek, you tell her. If anyone gets to steal it, it’s me.”

“I’m not giving either of you my car. I’ve seen the way that you guys drive. If anyone is getting her, it’s Lucy.”

Lucy laughs then excuses herself to return to the front desk. Elle frowns at him. Stiles looks betrayed. “How dare you. I am a great driver! I don’t remember you ever complaining about it, and that was when you complained about everything.”

“I didn’t complain because I didn’t want to get you started. I was there when you spent twenty minutes explaining why pineapple was an appropriate pizza topping.”

He throws his hands in the air, nearly knocking himself over. “Pineapple is great on pizza! And you can’t argue with me about that! I watched you eat a whole Hawaiian pizza by yourself.”

“I never said it was bad. I merely pointed out that you were arguing with exactly no one when you went on that tirade. Stiles, you could talk a tree to fury.”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles mumbles, “Trees have tempers, that’s no big feat.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Stiles. Whatever you say.”

“Well, okay then,” Elle interrupts finally, rolling to her feet. “Break time’s over. I’ll leave you two to your strange argument.” On her way towards the door, she reaches out and places one hand gently on Stiles’ shoulders. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.” She squeezes once and then pushes past him into the shop.

Getting up from the bed finally, Winnie trots over to Stiles, nosing at his hand. Obliging her whims, he bends down to scratch at her ears. “That was weird,” he says finally, looking over at Derek with a confused look. 

He shrugs. “Elle is strange, but she means well.” Derek reaches out to give Niko some scratches, laughing when he practically melts at his feet. Not wanting to be ignored by her human, Winnie comes over and places her head on Derek’s knee. He spends a few minutes petting both dogs before getting to his feet.

“Were you done looking at the books?”

Stiles startles from where he had been smiling down at his phone. A blush colors his cheeks. “Oh, uh. Yeah. Lucy took some books up to the register for me before she brought me to you.”

“Alright. We should probably head out then. There’s something that I want to show you before we get back to the house, and I don’t want the snow to start before then.”

With a jaunty salute, Stiles grins down at Winnie. “Come on, Win. We’re going on an adventure.”

Like a valiant leader, Stiles turns on his heels and leaves the office, not bothering to turn around and make sure that they’re following him. He doesn’t need to. As soon as he moves, Winnie does, and Derek is left with Niko trailing after them with a smile on his face. 

“You’re all set,” Lucy says after Stiles pays, sliding his bag across the counter with a smile. Before she releases the bag though, she tilts her head to the side and says, “You know, if you’d like you can have dinner with Elle and I. We’ll be closing up pretty soon.”

As nice as the prospect is, selfishly Derek wants to spend some time with Stiles on his own. Shopping was fun, but he feels a little worn out from it already. And as much as he wants Stiles to get along with his friends, going back to the house sounds a lot better than lingering in town any more. 

“Maybe another time,” Derek says and he means it.

Instead of insisting or pressing, Lucy merely nods. “I’ll hold you to that. Have a good night, you two. Drive safe.” She leans over the counter expectantly and Derek offers up his cheek for a kiss. Stiles is obviously surprised when her gaze turns to him afterwards, but he shuffles forward obediently and allows Lucy to gently kiss his cheek. His skin is an embarrassed shade of pink afterwards, but his scent is warm and pleased.

“I’ll talk to you guys later,” Derek promises. “Be safe.”

With that, and one last wave to where Elle is helping someone find a book down one of the stacks, Derek leads Stiles and Winnie back to the truck. The air is colder than it was before, and Derek shivers with it. The snow is coming sooner than he thought. Still, instead of heading directly back to his house, Derek pulls the truck off one of the side dirt roads, ignoring Stiles’ confused sound. 

“Hey,” Stiles says after a long, quiet moment. Derek expects him to ask where they’re going. Instead, he sighs. “I would get you car, right?” Stiles asks after another pause, glancing over at him from the passenger seat. Against the soft grey sky behind his head, he’s nearly glowing. Derek wants nothing more than to reach over the consul and take his hand. 

He settles for offering Stiles a soft smile and answering honestly, “Yes, Stiles. You would get the car.”

Instead of fist bumping, a small private smile draws Stiles expression into something soft. “Awesome.” Turning back to look out the windshield, Stiles rests his head on the window and repeats the sentiment. “Awesome.”

The rest of the ride is quiet, each of them content to enjoy each other’s presence without talking. Soon enough, the lake comes into view. Stiles releases a breath of air. 

Set against the greying winter sky and hedged with tall pines, the lake is a looking glass to the universe. Soft clouds of condensation and fog hang over the undisturbed surface. It looks ethereal and otherworldly, like a storybook opened up a hole in time and left this place behind. 

As though being moved forward with an invisible pull, Stiles opens the truck door and stumbles outside, walking forward until the tips of his shoes touch the still water on the bank of the lake. 

From the car, Derek watches as Stiles seems to lose himself in the view. Opening his own door, Derek makes sure that Winnie stays behind before wandering over and joining Stiles by the water.

“This place,” Stiles breathes. His voice is awed. 

Derek smiles. “I know. I found it by accident during the full moon years ago.”

“It feels like old magic here.” He shivers and instinctually presses his side against Derek’s.

That’s true. The earth here is imbedded with old magic, pure and bright. Whoever cares for this land, whatever protections it is under have lasted for a long, long time. Derek suspects that he only found the lake because someone _allowed_ him too. And now, he’s here with Stiles for the same reason. 

“I wanted you to see it,” Derek admits in a small voice. “I thought that you would appreciate it.”

Stiles looks up at him. His expression is serious and somber. “I do.” His voice is thick with emotion. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

As he says that, gentle snow flakes start falling from the sky. At first it’s only a small wave of them, adding to the ambiance of the lake. Then the snow flakes get bigger and Stiles’ shivers get worse. Touching the back of his elbow gently, Derek gestures to the car. 

“Come on, we should head back to the house. It may seem light right now, but give it an hour and this storm is supposed to be pretty bad.”

Turning away from the water seems to be hard for Stiles. He lingers there, with the snow, for a long minute before nodding. “Okay.”

The drive back is quiet and peaceful in a way that feels deeper than bone. Going to the lake is a cleansing experience as much as it is a good view, and Derek likes knowing that Stiles reacts to it the same way. 

When they get to the house, Stiles disappears into the bathroom for a shower and Derek starts the process of getting dinner ready. Stiles asked for homemade Mac and Cheese, and Derek is going to deliver. This was one of Cora’s favorite meals before the fire. Derek remembers, so vividly, how she would sit at the table, looking so small, demanding that their father make the ‘cheese noodles’ for her. 

This is not his father’s recipe. Derek was too young to pay much attention when his dad added ingredients even though he liked to help him in the kitchen. But he likes to think that his dad would approve of his recipe. Cora liked it when she visited and seeing as it was her favorite food, Derek feels pretty good about it. 

Some people like extra toppings in their Mac and Cheese, but Derek likes keeping it simple. He does fry up some bacon in case Stiles wants some to top his plate with, but otherwise the only fancy thing he adds are garlic buttered breadcrumbs on the top. 

“Is there anything I can do to help,” Stiles asks when he comes out of the bathroom barefoot in sweats and one of Derek’s tee shirts. He must have looked through the dresser to find it, which doesn’t bother Derek like it should. 

Instead, it makes him smile. “Not really. I’m just waiting on the oven, and then we can eat.”

Stiles flops down at the table, tossing his phone carelessly across the surface. He doesn’t even look at it, pulling his gaze up to watch Derek instead.

“I realized,” he says after a moment, “that I’ve been here two days and I haven’t asked what it is you do. I mean, I assume that you work. Not that it’s a problem if you don’t! You could hang out here all day and that would be just fine!”

Derek laughs. “Stiles, calm down. I do freelance editorial work. It allows me to work at my own pace here at the house, and it’s something that I really like to do.”

“Wow. That’s cool. It’s not what I was expecting, but it suits you.”

“What were you expecting?”

He shrugs. “Well, I wasn’t sure that there’s such a thing as a professional lumberjack, but that was pretty much what I thought you were doing.”

Blinking at him, Derek tries his best to frown. “You thought that I was a professional lumberjack.”

Blowing out a puff of air, Stiles purses his lips. “What? It totally suits you! You live in the woods with your dog and your muscles. You could totally be a professional lumberjack!” 

“Oh Gods, I regret letting you stay here. Get out. I’m keeping the Mac and Cheese for myself.”

“No,” he throws himself across the table towards Derek. “I need it to survive, Derek! Would you starve your poor, sad, house guest?” Biting his lips, Stiles opens his eyes really wide to make them look bigger. Derek just raises one eyebrow and stares at him until he deflates. “Wow, way to burst my ego.” He leans back in his chair and looks at Derek with a calculating expression. “You know, that look helped seduce an incubus.”

Derek wants to know and really, really doesn’t all at the same time. But there’s something about imagining Stiles trying to seduce someone for a case that doesn’t sit well with him. And he has to ask. “Why were you trying to seduce an incubus?”

Realizing why his voice sounds off, Stiles actually gets to his feet in a rush to get Derek to understand. “No! It wasn’t for a case or anything! I wouldn’t-. Derek, I wouldn’t use someone like that, I promise. That would be really crappy to do, and I wouldn’t. I’m not-.” He trails off, turning his stare to the table. He sounds sad when he says, “I’m not like _her_.”

Derek actually flinches at the implications before his muscles relax. It’s not that talking about Kate really bothers him, not any more. And it’s not like he was actually drawing a comparison between Stiles and Kate, not actively anyway. But for Stiles to put the words out there; it’s not something that Derek was prepared for.

“I know,” Derek says finally after swallowing twice when the words don’t come out. “I know you’re not. Stiles I-. I would never think that you were.” And that’s true. Even if he understands why Stiles would think that, given his question, he knows that Stiles is nothing like Kate. 

“You sounded so-. I wouldn’t do that.”

Giving in the urge to touch him, Derek reaches out and places one hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Stiles, I know. Trust me. I would never compare the two of you. I promise you I wouldn’t do that.” The timer on the oven beeps, but Derek ignores it, choosing to stare Stiles down in hopes he’ll understand. “I would never think that of you.”

Under his palm, Derek feels the tension leave Stiles’ body. “Good. I don’t-. I don’t know what I would do if you thought that.”

Squeezing once, Derek forces a small smile. “Well I don’t.” An old saying that his grandmother used to tell him and Laura after they got into one of their fights occurs to Derek suddenly. He’s opening his mouth to repeat her words without stopping to consider the implications of the sentence. “I know your heart, Stiles.”

When their grandmother said it, both Laura and Derek would scoff a little before apologizing to each other and going on with their days. It wasn’t until he was older that he understood the words. His grandmother used the phrase to calm them down and remind them that they were not angry, spiteful creatures, but by the time Derek understood, he no longer believed that she was right about him. How could he not be a monster when he got all of them killed? Luckily, his thinking changed. It took Derek years, but he finally believes his grandmother was right; he isn’t mean or spiteful. She knew his heart then even if he couldn’t see it himself.

Stiles’ lips part on an exhale, and he stares at Derek with a hopeful, guarded expression. It makes Derek want to take a chance, makes Derek believe that, if he moved in just a little more, and leaned forward the tiniest bit then - 

The oven timer goes off again, making both Derek and Stiles jump. Letting the hand he has on Stiles’ shoulder drop away, Derek turns to get the Mac and Cheese out of the oven. By the time he turns back around, Stiles has retreated back to his spot at the table. There is a blush high on his cheeks. It reminds Derek what Elle said earlier: _he is the werewolf and you are the moon he revolves around._ Maybe, she had a point. Maybe. 

But that is thinking for another time. Now Derek gets two bowls and fills them with Mac and Cheese, putting the bacon in a separate bowl in case Stiles wants it, and then brings everything to the table.

“How is your father doing?” He asks and he sits down.

Stiles smiles over at him. “He’s doing pretty good. He hasn’t retired even though I’ve been trying to convince him to do it for years, but he has let some of the deputies take over the heavy work. He complains about it, but it makes me feel a little better, knowing that he’s not putting himself in the line of fire every time there is a dangerous call, you know.”

Derek nods, because he understands both Stiles’ concern and John’s will to keep working. 

“He tried dating a little bit before realizing that he was content being by himself. Besides he has Melissa. They don’t need romance to be good together. So yeah, he’s doing really good. He’s happy and healthy, and that’s more than enough for me.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Stiles smiles in a soft way. “Yeah. It makes me stress a lot less, trust me.” Taking another bite, Stiles thinks for a moment and then asks, “How is Cora doing?”

Derek smiles, and offers his own update about his sister. Even though they are nowhere near to being as close as he was with Laura, they have a pretty good relationship considering everything that happened. He’s glad that he’s been allowed the chance to get to know her, and at least twice a year they meet up to spend a week together either with her pack or in Colorado. And it’s nice, knowing that she’s there. They may not be together all of the time, but they’ve learned to love each other and that means the world to Derek.

Dinner passes in a comfortable haze of catching up. Stiles talks more about his job and so does Derek, though it seems a lot more boring than what Stiles does. Still, Stiles seems to absorb everything, asking thoughtful questions and seeming to be genuinely happy to hear the answers. 

“How is the pack?” The question seems to take Stiles by surprise.

“They’re good,” he says after a small pause. “Scott’s doing really well at the whole alpha thing. It took him a few years, but he really has a handle on it now. He doesn’t even need me around to keep his furry butt out of trouble.”

Derek raises one eyebrow. “If I recall, it was usually you that was getting his furry butt into trouble.”

Stiles scoffs at him. “Sure, maybe. But I was also the one to get him out of it, so maybe cool it with the heavy judgement brows over there.”

That makes Derek laugh, fully bodied and easy. “Hey, I didn’t deny you got him out of it. Actually, I can’t really imagine Scott surviving without you. I was just pointing out that you were the one who got him into those woods that first night.”

“Yeah well. I don’t regret it, so there.” He sticks his tongue out at Derek and takes a spoonful of the crumbled bacon, shoving it in his mouth. What’s more interesting to Derek is that he’s telling the truth; he doesn’t regret taking Scott into the woods where Peter bit him and their lives changed. He doesn’t regret setting everything into motion. 

Derek is proud that he feels that way, but he’s surprised. There are so many things that he still regrets, even though he’s in a good place now. It’s nice to hear that Stiles doesn’t regret that night. Without it, Derek wouldn’t know him at all. And Derek doesn’t like to think about what the last few years would have been like without him. 

“Good,” he says instead of voicing his thoughts, getting up to put his bowl in the sink.

“So,” Stiles says, sneaking up beside him. Derek jumps, having not noticed that he had got up from the table. As easy as breathing, Stiles takes the rag from Derek’s hand and starts cleaning out his own bowl. “What’s on the agenda for tonight, big guy?”

Derek hadn’t really considered having a plan. So he shrugs. “What do you want to do?”

He expects Stiles to suggest something like a movie. Instead he asks, “Do you have any games we can play? Cards?”

Actually, Derek has a surprising amount of games, courtesy of his time knowing Lucy, who loves board games. Stiles eyes light up when he sees the collection, and he promises Derek that, before he leaves, they’re going to play every game he owns. For tonight, he picks out _Santorini_ , _Nova Luna_ , and looks ready to close the door before catching sight of _Odin’s Ravens_ and picking that one up too. Derek knows that they won’t have time to play all three games; hell Derek thinks that they’re probably get stuck playing one after Stiles gets hooked, but at least the other two will be ready for when they wake up. 

Sure enough, two games in to _Nova Luna_ , Stiles is already wide eyed and obsessed. It’s interesting, watching him try and figure out where to place his tiles. Derek always knew that he was ruthlessly competitive, but it’s a whole other experience seeing it in a game board setting. He understands why his game of choice is chess; he plans every move as he goes, trying to work three steps ahead of Derek. 

It’s fun and challenging, and by the time they call it a night Derek’s chest is light from how much he laughed during their games.

Stiles pouts at him from across the table, stiffing a yawn in the crook of his arm. “Tomorrow I’m getting my revenge,” he declares. It’s not the most convincing announcement considering how exhausted Stiles looks, but Derek doesn’t argue. Instead he gets to his feet, puts the game aside with the others, and reaches out to help Stiles up. 

“Sure, if you say so.”

There’s a long moment, even after Stiles has gotten to his feet, where they stand hand in hand watching each other. Then, after squeezing his hand briefly, Derek lets go and steps back. “Good night, Stiles.”

He’s probably only imaging the disappointed look in his eye.

—————

The next three days pass in a soft, companionable haze. They play several board games and go on a few very cold walks. While Derek gets work done, Stiles curls up with one of his books or naps with Winnie. 

The most surprising part about it is how content Stiles seems with a slow paced lifestyle. He had no problems unwinding and relaxing. The nervous energy that Derek knew before has dissipated. Whether it is a side effect of growing up or staying at the little house in the woods, he is grounded and has no problems staying still.

And their easy companionship makes the days pass with ease. They talk more about the past, Stiles tells Derek stories of his missions and of the team he works with and Derek talks about settling in at the house and some of the stranger pieces of writing he’s read for work. 

And it’s so easy. 

While Stiles showers, Derek pulls out a notebook and, with a smile, starts to write.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks a while later, falling onto the couch beside him. His hair is still wet from the shower, and his scent is pure Stiles.

Derek smiles. “Writing a letter.”

A curious expression passes over Stiles’ face before he locks it away, too fast for Derek to understand what it was in the first place. “Wow, look at you writing letters. So, who’s the lucky lady?”

Derek is actually a little annoyed at the implication, but he lets it slide, closing his notebook and meeting Stiles’ challenging gaze. “Laura.”

At her name, Stiles’ body jerks then freezes. He swallows twice before repeating her name. “Laura?”

“It’s something that my therapist recommended. When things get really bad or when things are really good, he suggested that I write a letter to someone to tell them what I’m feeling. At first I thought that it was a dumb idea, but it’s cathartic, writing everything out. Depending on what I want to say, I’ll address the letters to different people. Tonight, I’m writing to Laura.”

Gods, how Derek hated the idea when it was proposed. It seemed dumb, and thinking about writing a letter to one of his dead family members who could never read it ripped a hole in his chest. But his therapist didn’t let it go. He asked for just one letter. Just one. And then if Derek hated it, he would never have to write another one. 

Derek had actually penned that first letter to Stiles. It seemed easier than writing to his family. And it was still so hard. He wrote about Beacon Hills, and Scott, and how lost he felt. By the time he was finished, there were more lines crossed out on the page than there were actually words, and he had ripped two pages of it into shreds. But it also felt kind of nice when it was done. 

It took another two months before he wrote one to his mom. And he had been writing the letters ever since. In his closet there is a little box addressed to each person who he writes a letter to. Laura’s is the biggest; he writes to her a lot more than the others, especially these days when all he really wants to do to talk about how is day was. 

Stiles’ box is the second biggest, even more full than Talia’s, and Derek tries not to think about what that means. 

“Oh,” Stiles says in a small voice. “Tell her that I say ‘hi,’ okay?”

The smile that Derek can feel blossoming over his face is huge and besotted and he can’t help in. _This is why_ , a voice in his head says. _This is why it’s_ him. 

On the side table, Stiles’ phone buzzes. He spends a few minutes messing around with it before sighing. 

“Something wrong?” Derek asks, placing the notebook back in the drawer of the table beside him where he keeps it. 

“Not really? It’s just Scott checking in on me.” Derek raises his eyebrow and Stiles sighs again, running one hand through his hair. “He knows that I’m on vacation right now.”

The picture clicks together. “And he’s upset that you’re not home.”

For a moment, Stiles actually looks confused. “No. Oh, gosh no. Scott would never demand that I spend my free time in Beacon Hills. He’s my best friend; he understand how I come and go. Besides, he knows that I’m with you.”

A lump forms in Derek’s throat and he feels a little uncomfortable. “He’s upset that you’re with me?”

“No!” Lurching forward, Stiles wraps one hand around Derek’s wrist. “No! He’s actually happy about that, and he’s really happy to hear that you’re doing well. It’s just-. Forget about it. He’s just being annoying, like a best friend should be, you know? Worrying about me being happy and about what it means to go back to the job and all that stuff.”

Derek thinks about how annoying he found Laura at times and how Elle knows just how to get under his skin perfectly and he understands. “I get it. He’s just looking out for you.”

“Yes,” Stiles says, settling back into his chair. “Exactly. He worries about me, but not because I’m here with you. Trust me, he would never worry about that.”

It seems a little optimistic to say never, considering everything that they’ve been through, but it’s still nice to hear that Scott trusts him enough not to hurt Stiles. “Good.”

A soft expression pulls Stiles’ lips up into a private smile, one that feels like it’s meant just for Derek. “Yeah. Don’t ever worry about that one, Derek.”

The urge to reach across the couch, pull Stiles close and kiss him is nearly overwhelming. He wants to so badly. Instead he reaches over to the side table and grabs a game at random. Stiles laughs gleefully when he sees that Derek’s picked _Nova Luna_ from the set. It really has become one of his favorite games. 

With a bright laugh, he folds himself on the floor opposite Derek and reaches for the game. “Ready to be destroyed,” he asks, waggling his eyebrows. 

Derek rolls his eyes and joins him on the floor. “Not a chance.”

—————

Though Stiles is on vacation, Derek is not, which means that mundane chores like laundry still have to get done. It’s not too bad, Stiles helps with a lot of it. He always joins Derek when it’s time to do the dishes, and helps him fold everything after it’s washes. It’s domestic and nice, and watching as Stiles pretends to show Winnie how to fold is almost too adorable to handle. 

“That’s the last of them,” Stiles says, falling back against the couch with a pleased smile. “Can we be done for the day?”

Derek laughs. “Yeah, we’re done.”

He throws his hands up in the air in victory, “Awesome! I’m going to go get in my pajamas and then we are definitely watching _Princess Bride._ ” Derek groans, but it’s all for show. The movie is definitely one of his favorites, and he was utterly charmed when Stiles found it and did a little victory dance in excitement. “I want to see if you can quote more of the movie than I can.”

Derek bets that he can. Actually, he’s sure that he can. But he keeps those thoughts to himself. It’s better to let Stiles think that he has a chance at winning before crushing him at a game he’s designed. 

“Take the towels with you,” Derek implores, but it’s too late. Stiles has already disappeared cackling into the bedroom. Looking over at Winnie, Derek shakes his head. “What are we going to do with him, Win?”

The dog woofs good naturally in response and then closes her eyes again, content to doze and let Derek figure it out for himself. 

With a sigh that is more than an act than anything else, Derek picks up the towels and follows after Stiles. 

The bedroom door is partly closed, but Derek pushes it open with the tip of his shoe, a complaint on the tip of his tongue. And then he stops. 

Stiles is standing at the bed facing away from the doorway with his shirt off. Covering the majority of his left side are a series of bright pink scars. They crisscross over his skin in thick lines, telling a story of a boy who should be dead.

Dropping the towels on the dresser, Derek crosses the room until he’s standing right behind him. Though he must sense his presence, Stiles doesn’t turn around. Before he knows what he’s doing, Derek stretches out his hand and runs the tips of his fingers over one of the scars.

Stiles shudders at his touch, goosebumps breaking out over his skin immediately. He doesn’t pull away.

“How long were you in the hospital?” Derek asks softy, continuing to trace each inflamed line. 

“Almost two months. Those are-.” He shudders again. “They were bad. Each cut into my skin felt like it would never get better. It took me days to even wake up again afterwards because I lost so much blood.”

“Jesus Stiles,” he hisses. He doesn’t even know where to start. 

A sound that may be a laugh escapes him. “I told you that I almost died. I wasn’t joking.”

They stand together in a drawn out moment of silence. Derek can’t keep his hands off of Stiles’ side, and Stiles hasn’t pulled away from him.

“Do they hurt?”

Stiles leans back more so that Derek is holding up some of his weight. The angle of his body still gives Derek access to the scars on his side, but now they’re pressed together, Stiles’ back to Derek’s chest. “Not anymore, not really. They get tight sometimes, but the medic gave me some cream to put on it if it gets too bad. That little container is the only thing I brought with me here aside from my phone, and it does help.”

Laying his hand flush against Stiles’ side, Derek closes his eyes and puts his forehead down against Stiles’ bare shoulder. It isn’t the most comfortable position in the world, but it gives Derek time to ground himself. He knew that Stiles’ job was dangerous and that he had been hurt. Obviously Derek knew that. But seeing it has left him feeling so off balance. 

He had almost lost him, permanently. And he wouldn’t have even known. He would have had no idea that, somewhere out in the world, Stiles would have been taking his last breathes. He would just have continued on writing him letters and trying not to think about him too much, and he wouldn’t have _known._

He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to even think about a world without Stiles in it, especially one where he wouldn’t even know that he was gone. It’s too much to consider. 

Derek loses control and shifts, his claws skimming over Stiles’ skin. Stiles stiffens briefly but then immediately relaxes. He brings one of his hands up to cover Derek’s, pressing it more firmly against his side despite the claws.

“It’s okay,” he breathes, leaning back harder against him. “Derek, I’m okay. I survived. I’m here with you.”

“I almost lost you,” Derek stutters out. He hates that he feels like he doesn’t have the right to be upset by that fact. “I wouldn’t have known.”

Stiles squeezes his hand. “Yes you would have,” he says softly. “I-. When I got the job, we had to provide them with a list of people to contact if something happened to us. Even though we hadn’t talked in years, I couldn’t not put you on the list. I know it wasn’t fair of me to do. I would have been just another death to lay on your doorstep, you know. But I couldn’t leave your name off of the list. I would want you to know.”

A lump forms in his throat. “You put me on the list.”

“Right under my dad and Scott. Derek, I-.” He shudders. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

The admission carries so much weight, more than Stiles could even realize. And even though he knows that he shouldn’t, even though he made the promise to himself to leave it alone, Derek uses the grip he has on Stiles’ side to turn him around so that he can bring their lips together.

Stiles moves his free hand up to latch around Derek’s neck, keeping him close. There is no hesitation when he pushes back, no room to question if this was the right move. The kiss is hungry right from the start. It’s a reminder to both of them that Stiles is alive, that he’s there, and Derek’s desperation is echoed in Stiles. He winds arm around Derek’s waist and lets Derek take, moaning softly when their tongues tangle together. 

Gripping his hips, claws still exposed and skimming over Stiles’ skin, Derek pushes until Stiles settles down on the edge of the bed. He intends to set down on his lap, but Stiles has other ideas. He tugs him forward so they fall on the bed together, laughing when the kiss breaks and they bounce on the mattress. 

Bracing his elbows on either side of Stiles’ head, Derek leans back slightly and takes a moment just to look at him. He’s beautiful, that much is easy to say. He always has been, even when he was just an annoying ally. Derek has liked him for so long. And now he’s here, he’s safe, and he wants Derek back.

With a smile, Stiles lifts his head up and rubs his nose against Derek’s. It’s such a soft action, filled with such fondness, that Derek’s heart swells. “Like what you see, big guy?

His smile is probably dopy. He can’t even think of anything witty to response with. All he can say is, “Yes,” before bending back down to kiss Stiles again. 

This time, the kiss is slower. They take time to enjoy the sensations of being together. Stiles is a warm weight beneath his body, and even as his arms quiver from holding himself up, Derek can’t imagine pulling away. 

“Tell me what you want,” Derek breathes against his mouth. 

Stiles wraps his legs around Derek’s waist and arches up, his erection unmistakable though his sweats as he ruts against Derek. “You. Derek, I want anything you’ll give me.”

Shuddering at the implications of that statement, Derek leans back and does his best to get Stiles’ pants off. The hunger from their first kiss is back anew, and all Derek wants is to be pressed together without their clothes getting in the way. 

He gets a little distracted though when he finally gets Stiles’ pants off, because as soon as he wraps his hand around Stiles’ dick the sound he makes is too good to ignore. 

Stiles whimpers and withers on the bed, arching into Derek’s hand. “Gods,” he mutters like a prayer. “Derek.”

With a pleased grin, Derek sets a gentle rhythm, moving his hand up and down the shaft with just enough pressure that it’s pleasurable but not nearly enough for Stiles to get off. He likes watching him squirm and whine. 

Finally, with heaving breathes, Stiles bats at his chest. “Take your clothes off,” he huffs. It’s clear that he’s trying to be demanding, but the needy edge in his voice is far from authoritative. It is convincing though. As quickly as he can, Derek gets to his feet and peels his clothes off, shuddering when Stiles watches him with hungry eyes. Before he gets back in bed, he closes the door so that Winnie won’t disturb them, and then he turns back to Stiles. 

“Better?” he asks, climbing over Stiles body. 

Stiles grins at him and winds both hands around to grip the back of his neck. “Yes,” he breathes into his mouth right before kissing him again, hot and hungry. “Fuck me,” he whispers in Derek’s ear after they part. “Please.”

Derek knows without a doubt that his eyes are burning bright blue. Stiles grins at him. “Well that’s hot.”

As best he can feeling as though he might burst out of his skin, Derek rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” Even as he says it, he’s leaning over towards the bedside table, ruffling through the drawer for his bottle of lube. “I don’t have any condoms,” he says as he sits back up. “I haven’t-. I don’t date.” That is a weird thing to be saying while they’re pressed skin to skin, but Stiles doesn’t look put off by it. Instead, he hums, pleased, and leans up to kiss Derek again. 

“I’m clean. They ran some tests while I was in the hospital. And I haven’t-. I don’t really date much either. If you’re still not comfortable with it, that’s fine. I get it. Getting each other off is way more than enough for me. Hell, having your naked body pressed against mine is almost enough to do me in anyway. But if you want to-.” He shrugs, an embarrassed blush making his cheeks red. 

Derek knows that he should slow them down. Not only is this their first time together, it probably would be best if he got condoms just to be safe. But he trusts that Stiles is being honest with him, and he’s a werewolf; he couldn’t catch anything even if he wasn’t. Besides, now that Stiles has mentioned it, that’s all that Derek wants. 

“If you’re sure you’re okay with it.”

Stiles nods, running the tips of his fingers over Derek’s side. “Trust me, I’m more than okay with it.” He shifts, pressing his erection against Derek’s thigh. “I’m very, very okay with it.”

That is enough for Derek. With one more, lingering kiss, he leans back, slicks his fingers with lube and starts prepping Stiles. 

It’s a long process. Stiles is incapable of staying still and being quiet, not that Derek would want him any other way. While he hasn’t slept with very many people, Stiles is the most genuine. Even while Derek is pressing against his prostate, three fingers stretching him wide, he still babbles on. The sentences don’t make the most sense, but Derek gets the gist: he’s ready for more, and if Derek doesn’t follow through he will ‘literally implode.’

With a fond laugh, Derek squeezes more lube on his dick, lines himself up, and presses into Stiles. He moves slow; even having prepped him so thoroughly he’s still tight and Derek doesn’t want to hurt him. 

When he’s fully seated, they both groan. Stiles throws his head back trying to catch his breath. Derek takes the opportunity to lean down and lick a long strip from his collarbone up his neck before nibbling gently on his ear.

“Move,” Stiles says finally, and Derek complies, gently pulling out before rocking back inside. The pace he sets is slow at first, a gentle slid of skin on skin until Stiles gets impatient and asks for more. He sounds needy and desperate, and as much as Derek would like to keep teasing him, Derek is getting close too. He picks up the pace, watching as Stiles withers beneath him. 

Leaning forward, Derek kisses him once more before bending down to set his teeth at the junction of Stiles’ neck. He can feel the wolf, so close to the surface, begging to be set free. It wants to claim and be claimed. It wants to _bite._ Derek wants that too. He has for years and having Stiles in his arms shows him how much that’s true. With that thought clear in his mind, Derek closes his eyes and sinks his teeth into Stiles’ skin. They don’t break through, but the intention is there. And it’s enough. 

With his wolf howling inside him, Derek comes. His vision whites out, his eyes flash, and the mating bond forms new and bright in his mind. 

Stiles wraps his arms around his back, holding him tight as he shudders under Derek’s weight and comes too, crying out as his orgasm hits him. 

They lay together without moving for a while afterwards, both of them coming down from their highs. Finally Derek sits up, arms shaking as he pulls out and gets to his feet. Stiles watches him go with eyes half-lidded. He looks thoroughly ruined and so lovely it hurts. Derek wants nothing more than to get back in bed with him. But first he has to clean them up.

Returning from the bathroom with the rag, Derek takes his time washing Stiles off. It feels good to care for him like this, and he gets a little distracted running the rag over his skin. Stiles has to bat at him to get him to stop and practically drag him back into bed where he proceeds to curl across his chest.

With a tired smile, Derek grabs the corner of the comforter and lifts it so that it covers both of them. Then he curls one hand around the back of Stiles’ neck and falls to a dreamless sleep.

—————

Waking up the next morning, Stiles’ face is the first thing he sees and it is kind of glorious. Stiles is already awake, staring over at him. It makes Derek huff and burrow in against the pillow more. “Creepy,” he says, voice fond despite being sleep rough. 

Stiles laughs and reaches out to wind his fingers in Derek’s hair. “Probably, but you like it anyway.” Mindful of their morning breath, Stiles leans down and kisses Derek’s forehead before rolling away to get out of bed. 

“I’ll put the coffee on, sleepy head.”

Derek smiles against the pillow and allows himself a few minutes to doze. 

Winnie jumping up on his chest is what wakes him up the second time. He groans and pushes at her snout, trying not to laugh when she presses closer in response to lick his face. 

Faint music and the smell of fresh coffee is what drags Derek out of bed and into a pair of sweats. He doesn’t bother putting a shirt on. He doubts that Stiles will mind. 

In the kitchen, Stiles is swaying back and forth to the music coming from his phone. Love songs. Derek had no idea he was so sappy.

Sneaking up on him, Derek wraps his arms around his waist and buries his nose against Stiles’ neck, right above where he bit him the night before. Stiles squeaks in surprise, and then melts.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to get out of bed,” he says, laughter evident in his voice. 

“Winnie jumped on me.”

He nods. “She is a very good dog.”

Spinning in his arms, Stiles leans in and pecks Derek once softly. “You have to let me go if I’m going to finish the pancakes.” Reluctantly, Derek unwinds his arms and steps back. He watches Stiles for a moment more before heading to the bathroom, where he uses the restroom and brushes his teeth.

When he gets back to the kitchen, Stiles is bent over the counter smirking down at his phone. 

“What are you looking at,” Derek asks, taking his seat at the table. Stiles has already prepared his coffee, and Derek smiles as he picks up the mug.

“I have just been informed that we better join Elle and Lucy for dinner tomorrow night or Elle is going to come up here and drag us into the snow herself.”

Derek blinks at him. “You’re texting Elle?”

Stiles puts the phone on the counter and takes his seat. “No, Lucy. She gave me her number when we ran into them at the diner the other day while you and Elle were arguing.”

Spearing two pancakes with his fork, Derek moves them to his plate. “Okay? And that lead to Elle threatening us?” He’s not really sure why he’s asking. He knows Elle well enough to know that sounds exactly like her. 

“Yup. She says that you promised we would eat with them and we haven’t yet and she’s tired of waiting. Plus, it sounds like she has a new game and she needs more people to play it.”

That sounds about right too. “Okay. So, it sounds like we have plans tomorrow night. Which means that today I get you all to myself.”

Stiles tilts his head to the side. “Oh? And what, pray tell, do you have in mind?”

The smile that Derek gives him is all wolf. “I can think of a few things.” 

Shuddering, Stiles looks down at his plate in dismay. “Why did I have to make pancakes!”

Laughing, Derek winks at him and takes his first bite, groaning because they are very good pancakes. And he likes to watch Stiles squirm.

“Oh Gods. This is ridiculous. You are-. Dammit, Derek, finish breakfast. We have plans tomorrow night and I don’t want to waste any time.”

Laughing, Derek does just that.

—————

“So,” Elle says, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. Derek already knows where this is going. He’s been waiting for it since they showed up for dinner and her eyes zeroed in on one of the bite marks Derek left on Stiles’ neck. He commends her for being able to hold off so long. “Is this the point where I tell you I told you so, or would you like me to wait until after we have cake?”

“Yeah, yeah. Congratulations, you were right. Would you like me to give you a gold star or something.”

She snorts at his sarcastic tone. “Wow, you’ve got it bad.”

“Please, as if you’re one to talk. You _still_ get distracted staring at Lucy, and you guys have been married for years."

“What can I say? My wife is hot.” She plates up another slice of cake, handing it over to Derek so that he can add the ice cream. “Seriously though, I told you so. I called it from the beginning and I was right.”

He bumps his shoulder against hers. “Yeah, you were right.”

Something in his voice makes her cackle in joy. “Gods, I never would have expected that you were so soft. Lucy always thought so, but I told her she was crazy.”

He scowls. “I’m not soft.”

Reaching out and pinching his cheek, she dances away before he can retaliate. “You totally are. You’re soft.” Suddenly becoming more serious, she smiles. “It’s a good look on you.”

Rolling his eyes to hide how that comment pleases him, he picks up two of the plates. “Come on. We should get back to them before they start a game without us.”

Sure enough, by the time that they get back to the living room, Stiles and Lucy are sorting through the game pile trying to find something new to play. Elle complains when they pick _Scrabble_ because ‘Derek is an editor, this isn’t even fair,’ and the night plays on. 

It hits Derek later, while he’s watching Stiles argue and joke with Lucy and Elle, that this isn’t going to last. It can’t. Because no matter how perfect everything is now and how well everyone gets along, Stiles is going to leave. 

That thought is sudden. It catches Derek feel completely off guard. He feels like he’s choking on it and he feels like running. 

Needing space, Derek gathers all of the plates and takes them to the kitchen. The steady rhythm of dishes will help him recenter himself now that he feels like the world has slipped out from under his feet.

“Hey,” Elle says, joining him in the kitchen. She leans back against the counter, expression hard. Derek nearly sighs. He should have known this was coming. If anyone would have been able to sense how he was feeling, it would be Elle. 

Sure enough, she squares her shoulders and asks, “Are you okay?”

He could lie. Sure, she wouldn’t believe him, but she wouldn’t press either. He wouldn’t have to talk about it. But he wants to. He needs to tell someone. And who better to tell than her, seeing as he can’t tell Stiles.

Looking at Elle’s expectant face, Derek sighs, and turns back to the dishes. “I shouldn’t have let him in,” he says so softly he’s surprised that she hears him at all. “I shouldn’t have done it. Because now he’s going to leave and I’m not sure how I’m going to go back to where I was without him.”

She makes a soft noise, and reaches out to rub his back. “Derek-.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, Elle. These last few days, everything has rearranged itself around him. Even before we slept together, he was my center.” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling so vulnerable it hurts. “Back in Beacon Hills, Stiles kept me alive. He kept me human when it would have been so easy to lose my humanity. And then I left him, and it was hard but I knew it was going to be better for me to go. And it was. But I never stopped thinking about him, Elle. I wrote him letters, and thought about how he was doing and if he was happy. And then he showed up here, and carved his way back into my life.” 

He hangs his head, full shame and a longing so fierce it’s breaking his heart. “I claimed him, Elle.” She inhales. It’s a sharp sound in the quiet room. “I don’t think he realizes what’s happened; his alpha was a bitten wolf who hasn’t been imbedded in werewolf culture like I was and I don’t think either of them know something like this can even happen. But I’m bound. How do I let him go again?”

Elle leans against his back, hooking her head on his shoulder. “You should tell him,” she says, just as softly. “He has a right to know.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to him. I don’t-. I can’t have him stay here because he feels obligated to. He has a job he loves and a life outside of this place. I don’t fit there. And I can’t ask him to stay here.”

“Derek, it’s not fair not to give him a choice.”

He knows that it’s not. And Stiles would be pissed if he knew that this was how Derek was thinking. But still, “I can’t, Elle.”

She huffs, irritated with the fact that Derek recognizes that what he’s doing is wrong but he’s still going to do it anyway. “Derek, you’re bound. You said that he doesn’t know what that means, but do you?”

He flinches. He knows all too well what it means for a werewolf to claim another. “It’s not permanent,” he says quietly. “He would have to claim me back for the bond to be complete.”

“But you want it to be, Derek. For you it’s game over.”

He’s so tired. “Elle, I’ve been his for years. He could never have showed up again, and I would have still been his.” That truth isn’t as hard to admit now. Before this week, Derek didn’t even recognize it, not really. But it was true all the same. He’s been Stiles’ for years. 

“Talk to him.” She pinches his side. Hard. Derek yelps and pushes her away from him. She lets him go, crossing her arms over her chest and staring him down. “Derek, I don’t push you. When you really don’t want to talk about something or you have reasons for not doing something, I don’t press. But I’m not going to let you do this to yourself or to him. Talk to him, or I will. And then we’ll both be pissed at you.”

Glaring at him, she turns on her heel and leaves the kitchen. Derek watches her go feeling bewildered and resigned. She’s right. She normally is. He needs to talk to Stiles. Sooner rather than later. But first he needs to finish the dishes, and get through the rest of game night. 

“Hey,” Stiles says softly, making Derek jump. He didn’t even notice him coming into the kitchen. “Are you okay?”

Derek blinks at him. “What?”

He actually looks concerned. “Are you okay? Elle just stormed out of here looking pissed. Did you guys fight?”

Muscles relaxing, Derek laughs. It’s strained and probably too high pitched. “Yeah, I’m okay. We’re-. We didn’t fight. She got mad at me for being an idiot, but we didn’t fight.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure okay?” Crossing the room, Stiles cups Derek’s chin in his hand, looking deep enough into his eyes that it’s clear he’s trying to see what he’s thinking. “You don’t look okay, Der.”

Leaning into his hand, Derek closes his eyes. His wolf hums in contentment, even though Derek himself feels so lost. “I’m okay.” His voice is soft. “I promise, Elle and I didn’t fight. She was just trying to help me. And I know that she’s right. I’m just-. Old habits die hard, you know.”

Of course, he’s not going to let it go so easily. Stiles never does anything the easy way. “What was she trying to help you with that got you both so upset?”

“I’ll tell you later.” 

Stiles’ fingers tighten on his jaw. Opening his eyes, Derek watches him for a long moment, taking in the way his eyebrows are pulled tight as though ready for a fight. Gods above, Derek loves him. Leaning forward, Derek kisses him deep and hard. When he pulls back, Stiles looks a little cross-eyed. “I promise I’ll tell you later,” he whispers against his mouth. “For now, go back and finish the game. These dishes are almost done and then I’ll be back out there.”

After kissing him once more, Stiles finally pulls back. “Okay, fine. As long as you’re okay.”

Unable to help it, Derek reels him back in for another kiss. Against his mouth, Stiles laughs. “You have to let me go if you’re going to finish the dishes.”

“You need to let him go if we’re ever going to finish this game,” Lucy says, voice dry. Standing in the doorway she’s staring at them looking less than impressed. Over her shoulder, Elle snickers. When she meets Derek’s gaze, her smile softens. She inclines her head at Stiles briefly, and Derek shakes his head. But something in his expression must give away his intention to talk to him because instead of getting angry again she just nods. 

Stiles looks between them, and when it seems like everything is good again, he backs away from Derek. “You better not have cheated while I was away,” he jokes, on his way to the kitchen door. 

Lucy’s mouth opens, appalled. “How dare you! I would never cheat!”

“She doesn’t need to cheat to beat you,” Elle says, waggling her eyebrows. Stiles snorts at the offense, and the trio make their way back into the living room, arguing and laughing as they go. 

Derek shakes his head at their antics, but as soon as they’re all out of sight, his smile falls away. He has to talk to Stiles. Elle is right. Even though it feels so selfish to tell him about what happened in case it will make him to stay, it is actually selfish not to say anything. Because then it takes Stiles’ will out of the equation. It would be Derek making the decision for him, and that just isn’t fair. 

Besides, Derek was done running years ago. He’s not going to start again. If Stiles leaves and doesn’t return, nothing will change. Derek will go on loving him and missing him and that will be that. And if he wants to stay, well-. He’s an adult; he can make those decisions on his own. 

As he finishes up the dishes, Derek tries to decide how to start the conversation. By the time he’s finished, he has no ideas. But he takes a deep breath and rejoins the party anyway. Taking the open seat beside Elle, Derek reaches out and takes her hand, squeezing it.

She smiles over at him and squeezes back, just as hard. Together they watch Lucy wipe the floor with Stiles in their next game. 

Derek and Stiles stay for a few more hours, shuffling through a variety of board games before calling it a night. As they’re saying their goodbyes, Elle pulls Derek close and whispers “Good luck,” in his ear, squeezing him extra hard before letting him go. Derek nods at her in acknowledgement and follows Stiles through the snow out to the truck where he’s helping Winnie inside. 

“I’m going to make hot chocolate when we get home,” Stiles says, huddling close to the heater vent. “My mom taught me the best hot chocolate recipe, you’re going to be so spoiled. And then,” he glances at Derek out of the corner of his eye, “you’re going to tell me about what’s bothering you so much.”

He’s not surprised that Stiles is being so blunt about it. He doesn’t beat around the bush about anything. “Yes,” Derek says simply. “And then I’ll tell you what’s bothering me.”

If Stiles is shocked that he agreed so easily he doesn’t let it show. Instead he just hums and then launches into a detailed explanation about why his mother’s hot chocolate is going to “blow Derek’s socks off.” For the most part, Derek listens and stays quiet. He likes listening to Stiles talk, and he’s too anxious to contribute to the conversation much, so it works out. 

True to his word, as soon as they get back to the house, Stiles discards his coat and immediately goes to the kitchen to start the hot chocolate. Derek detours to the bedroom to retrieve Stiles’ box of letters from the closet before joining him. 

Watching the ease that Stiles moves around the kitchen makes Derek ache. He’s simultaneously pleased with how comfortable Stiles is there and how perfect he fits into the house and Derek’s life, and terrified that he’s about to lose him. 

“And voila,” Stiles says with flourish, setting a mug on the table in front of Derek. The smile on his face is bright and cocky. “Tell me that isn’t the best hot chocolate you’ve ever had,” he challenges, taking the seat across from Derek with his own mug.

Taking a small, cautious sip, Derek hums when rich chocolate flavor bursts over his tongue. It’s creamy and rich, and it might actually be the best hot chocolate he’s ever had. Not that Derek is surprised. Stiles’ mom seems to have been an amazing woman. It’s no doubt that her recipe is superb. 

“Okay,” Stiles says, setting his mug to the side.”I’ve been really good about not asking any questions, but what is that?” Pointing at the box, he tries his best to sneak a peek inside. 

“They’re letters,” Derek says, pushing the box across the table. “You can look at them if you’d like.”

Unsure about what’s happening, Stiles accepts the box and opens the lid. Reaching in and pulling out the first letter, his breath catches. “It’s-.”

“Addressed to you,” Derek finishes for him. Inclining his head at the box he adds, “They all are.”

He looks so confused. “But? I don’t understand. You wrote me letters too?”

“Yes. In fact, the very first letter that I ever wrote was to you. It was an absolute mess, and it’s still buried somewhere in there under everything else. Stiles, I wrote you more letters than anyone else aside from Laura.”

He swallows twice, running his fingers over the envelope’s edges. “You never sent them.”

“No. And I wouldn’t have. Even though they’re addressed to you, in a way I wrote them for me.”

Finally, Stiles looks up at Derek. “Why are you showing me these now?”

Derek sighs. There’s no use beating around the bush. “Because I love you.”

Stiles freezes. His eyes are wide and dazed, but while his scent is full of confusion, he doesn’t smell upset at all. In fact, the green apple smell in his scent gets stronger, a sign that he’s pleased. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“But-. Are you sure? I haven’t been here that long. How can you-.”

“Stiles. I’ve loved you for years, I just didn’t realize that that’s what it was. And I’m not-. I’m not telling you because I expect the same in return. I don’t. But it might explain what I really need to tell you. Besides, I thought that you should know.”

He swallows. “What do you need to tell me?”

Sighing, Derek reaches up and cards one hand through his hair. “What do you know about mates?”

His eyes widen. “I didn’t think that they were a thing. You told Scott that they weren’t.”

“That’s because he was talking about destiny and justifying bad decisions with love as an excuse. Besides, mates aren’t really a thing. At least, they aren’t if you’re thinking about soulmates or having one person created specifically for you.” He’s already butchering this explanation. He tries again. “But for werewolves, there is something known as a mate bond. When reciprocated, it is a permanent, pure bond between two people. When a wolf chooses their mate, the process of creating a mate bond is called claiming.” He rubs his eyes. “That first night, when we slept together, I claimed you.”

Carefully, Stiles reaches up and presses his fingers against where Derek bit him. The mark has faded slightly but they both know it was there all the same. “So.” He stops. Thinks. “Now we’re mates?”

Slowly, Derek shakes his head. “I claimed you. I gave myself to you and therefore I am bound to you. But our mate bond isn’t complete. For me, this is game over,” he hates copying Elle’s words, but it seems like the best way to describe it. “But you don’t have to worry about it being permanent or anything.”

“Why not?” It’s impossible to tell how he feels about it. His expression has shut down, and even his scent is indecipherable. Derek doesn’t like it. 

“Because, just because I’m bound, that doesn’t mean that you are.” Everything gets quiet while Stiles thinks about it. Derek lets him have the time, content to sit and worry about what he’s thinking. He regrets not kissing him before their conversation started, just in case Stiles won’t let him do it again. 

An eternity later, Stiles nods. “Okay.”

Derek stares at him. “Okay?”

He threads his fingers together and leans his chin against on the back of his hands. “Yes, okay. Thank you for telling me instead of running away and keeping it to yourself.”

“I-.” He doesn’t really understand what any of this means. “You’re welcome?”

Stiles continues talking as though he wasn’t interrupted at all. “How do I claim you back?”

It takes a few seconds for the words and their implication to sink in. They make his heart race. “You want to claim me back?”

He rolls his eyes. “Duh. Derek, I don’t know how you haven’t noticed, but I’ve been in love with you for years. You’re game over for me too, you big dork.” Derek stares at him, mouth dropped open, and doesn’t know what to say. “Look at it this way,” Stiles says, voice soft. “Derek, when I was being tortured, when I thought that I was going to die, all I could think about was coming back to you. And it made me realize just how much I loved you and how much time I had wasted by not making myself a part of your life. I know that it isn’t going to be easy. I travel a lot for work and you have to stay here and live your own life. But I know that it’s worth it. I know that, no matter what happens, I want to be the person you think about before you go to bed each night. I want to be the person that you think about as soon as you wake up. You already are those things for me, and you have been for years, even when I didn’t think there was any chance that those feelings would be reciprocated. And now you’re here, telling me that you love me, that _you claimed me._ And I want to know how to claim you back. Because you’re all I want, Derek. Now and forever.”

He feels absurdly choked up by that statement. “Forever is an awfully long time,” he sniffles, taking a long drink from his mug to hide how much Stiles’ words get to him. 

Stiles laughs. “It’s not long enough, trust me. Now, stop avoiding the question, how do I claim you back.”

“I wasn’t-. I’m not-.” Blowing out a breath of air, Derek decides not to argue and just answers his damn question. “It’s about intention. When I bit you, I gave myself to you.”

“I just have to bite you and think about being with you forever?”

“Kind of? You have to think about the bond that will form between us, like a long ribbon that is impossible to break.” He sighs. “I know it sounds absurd, but that’s how it works.”

Stiles reaches out and makes grabby hands at him. “Well, get over here then.” He chomps down twice. “I want to suck your blood.”

Wrinkling his nose, Derek shakes his head. “First of all, ew. Second of all, what is this? A bad vampire movie? Third of all, ew.”

“Shut up, you love me anyway.” He pauses, eyes getting softer. “Holy shit, you love me. Wow.”

Derek takes his hand. “And you love me.”

He smiles at him, dopy. “Yeah. I really, really do.”

—————

Later, when Stiles bites into Derek’s shoulder, a mirror image of the bite that Derek gave him, their mating bond is all warmth and happiness. It feels like taking a deep breath after being underwater. It feels like coming home. 

—————

They get another blissful week together before Stiles gets a phone call from his boss. They’ve just finished having dinner, and Derek needn’t have listened to their phone call to know that it was time for Stiles to go. His scent gives it away immediately. 

When he leaves the bedroom where he stepped away to take the call, he pushes Derek until he’s laying out on the couch and then crawls on top of him. The silence between them is heavy, but Derek doesn’t break it. Instead he runs his hands up and down Stiles’ back in a comforting motion and tries to lock all of his fears about what this will mean for them away.

“I don’t want to go,” Stiles whispers sometime later, tucking his face close enough against Derek’s neck that he gets goosebumps. 

Derek sighs. “Leaving doesn’t change what we have,” he says as softly as he can. And it’s true. Leaving won’t change anything between them.

That doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Besides, the world needs you out there. Who else is going to put together detailed PowerPoints about the differences between mermaids and sirens?”

Stiles snorts. It’s too wet to be a convincing laugh. “I’ll call for a car in the morning. I can’t-. If you take me to the airport we won’t have any time to say goodbye. I would rather them pick me up here.”

Turning his head, Derek kisses the top of Stiles’ head. “Whatever you want.”

Even though it doesn’t seem possible, Stiles seems to curl closer around him. It isn’t the most comfortable of positions; they’re both too tall to lay completely on the couch, and it isn’t nearly large enough for them to reasonable share the space. But it allows them to hold each other, and that’s all that really matters. They lie together in that crowded space, each of them coming to terms with the fact that tomorrow, the domestic, blissful bubble that they’ve been living in will come to an end. 

Finally, Derek pats Stiles’ back. “Come on. Let’s go get a backpack packed for you. I have a spare one in the closet you can take.

Even though Stiles grumbles, he untangles himself from Derek and gets to his feet. “Fine. But afterwards we’re making cocoa and snuggling.”

His put out tone makes Derek laugh. “Of course. But the bed is a lot more comfortable.” He takes his hand. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

It doesn’t take long. Stiles decides to leave most of his sweats behind, though he does pack three of Derek’s shirts into the backpack without even trying to be subtle. Derek tries not to be charmed by the whole ordeal and fails.

“There,” Stiles declares, zipping up the bag. “Tada. All packed up. Can we cuddle now?”

“I thought that you wanted cocoa?” Even as he says it though, Derek wraps Stiles in his arms and pulls him into bed. Winnie is already laying there, but she has no problem rearranging so that they all can fit. 

“This is better,” Stiles says, voice quiet. It’s clear that he’s tired, but when Derek offers to get up and turn off the light Stiles holds him tight and argues, saying that he’s not ready for bed yet. 

They end up sleeping with the lights on, taking comfort in the last moments they have sharing each other’s warmth. 

—————

“Take this with you,” Derek says, pressing the box of his letters into Stiles’ hands. He had been thinking about it all morning, while they ate and drank their coffee. Now, standing outside saying their goodbyes, Derek knows that this is the right choice. He could keep them, but he wants Stiles to have them. They are his after all.

Stiles looks up at him, eyes wide and awed. “Are you sure?”

Leaning forward, Derek presses a quick kiss to Stiles forehead. “Yes, I’m sure. I wrote the letters to you. Even though I never thought that you would have a chance to actually read them, I wrote each one for a reason. You don’t have to read them if you don’t want to, but they’re yours all the same.”

Carefully Stiles places the box down beside his small backpack. Then, quick as a whip, he tugs Derek forward into a biting kiss that says everything that they can’t get out. “I’ll be back soon,” Stiles says into the kiss. 

Derek doesn’t believe him, not quite. So he kisses him harder and savors the last moments that they have. It feels so much like a goodbye Derek feels like he’s breaking. He doesn’t want to let go.

The driver clears his throat, breaking up their kiss. Standing on the opposite side of the car with a bright blush, he says, “Um, I don’t want to rush you guys but we might want to get going?” He avoids looking at them, which is more embarrassing than anything else. 

With a sigh, Stiles closes his eyes and presses his forehead against Derek’s shoulder. “I have to go,” he whispers. 

Derek wraps his arms around him and squeezes tight. “I know.” Pulling back, he bumps his forehead into Stiles’. “Hey, I’ll still be here any time that you can get away.”

Stiles kisses him again, but this time it’s just a peck. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be home soon. I promise.”

He shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep, but Derek doesn’t call him out on it. After all, it’s a lie that he wants to believe more than anything. 

He stands by the cab and watches as Stiles says goodbye to Winnie. She paws at the ground and whines as he climbs into the car looking back at them miserably. 

And then, with the saddest wave in history, the car and Stiles are gone. 

—————

The days that follow are miserable. Derek has gotten so used to having Stiles around that everything in the house reminds him of the days they had shared. When he does the dishes he sits two mugs out by the coffee pot, the muscle memory reacting as though he’s been putting two cups out for years. When he realizes what he’s done, Derek stares at the counter for a moment and then decides to leave both of them out anyway.

Elle calls him every day to see how he’s doing, and he’s honest when he tells her that he feels pretty bad. He hadn’t anticipated how unsettled his wolf would be without their mate around. He’s anxious and has trouble sleeping and is overall just sad. 

About a week after Stiles leaves, things start feeling a little more bearable. Derek still misses him and Winnie still paces the house hoping to find him hiding somewhere, but it is an easier weight to carry. 

Two weeks and four days after Stiles leaves, Derek is trying to finish up some work when his phone rings. Thankful for the distraction, he practically throws himself toward the phone. Winnie watches him silently from her perch in the arm chair, judging his life choices surely. 

“Hello,” Derek says, sitting back in his chair.

“Derek,” Luis sounds exasperated. “There’s someone down here looking for you.”

He blinks. “What?”

“Someone just showed up at the dinner looking for you. Marty got to him before I could, the bastard, and told him where to find you, but he doesn’t seem ready to leave yet. He looks like trouble. You should probably head on down here.”

Heart racing, Derek nearly trips over himself in his haste to get up. He does’t even say goodbye to Luis, just hangs up, grabs his shoes and rushes to the door. Winnie follows hot on his heels.

He knows that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but it’s hard not too. That sentence is far too familiar to what Luis said the first time Stiles showed up. She wouldn’t tease him like that. Of course, now Stiles definitely knows where Derek lives. Why would he wait at the diner?

Shaking his head, Derek decides not to worry. Whether it’s Stiles waiting for him or not, he’s on his way now.

But, Gods, does he hope that it’s Stiles. 

Derek probably drives faster than he should to get to the diner. He can’t help it. Even though he knows he should be more cautions with his heart, it’s hard not to anticipate who could be waiting on the other side. 

Climbing out of his car when he gets to the diner parking lot, Derek tilts his nose in the air and takes a deep breath. All he smells are Colorado pines and fresh snow. 

But then, wait-. Is that…

“Wow, you would rather sniff the sky than come in and say hello,” an amused voice asks. 

From inside the truck, Winnie starts barking, scrambling around the backseat looking for a way to escape. 

Ignoring her, Derek turns to face him. “Stiles.”

Standing at the diner door, Stiles grins at him. And then he runs the few feet left between them and throws himself into Derek’s open arms, laughter bright on his lips. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he says before pulling Derek into a deep kiss. 

Winnie’s barking is what eventually breaks them apart, but Derek keeps both hands tight on Stiles’ waist. He’s not quite ready to let go. 

“What are you doing back here so soon? I thought you were on assignment.”

With bright eyes, Stiles says, “I quit.”

All Derek can do is blink. “What?”

It makes Stiles laugh again. “I quit. On the drive to the airport I was pretty torn up about leaving. And Carl asked, if I was so upset about having to go, then why was I leaving? And I realized that he made a good point. And then when I got back to the apartment where I was living, it hit me again that I had nearly died. And I was getting ready to throw myself back into the same kind of danger. And I thought, what if I’m not that lucky the next time.” That thought makes Derek shudder. Stiles tucks one hand against Derek’s throat, cupping his head. “I know that leaving was not going to change what we have. Trust me, I know that. You’re mine, Derek Hale. You’re claimed. My leaving was never going to change that, and it wasn’t why I quit. I need you to understand that. 

“I was already tired of fighting when I left Beacon Hills. Then I found a job where that’s what I do, every day. I lie and I fight and I try my best to survive. And I know that I help people, which is great. And sometimes I really did love the job. But I’m tired. I don’t want to die. And I don’t want to leave you. Looking at the box you gave me was what finally put it all together for me. Derek, I don’t just want to be a name at the top of a letter. Regardless of everything else, the job was just a job. There are plenty more of those out there. But do you know what there isn’t plenty of? You. There is only one Derek Hale, the professional werewolf lumberjack who I am in love with. And I’m not willing to give you up.”

With a growl, Derek hauls Stiles into another kiss. All Derek wants right now is to be closer to him, so much closer.

Winnie jumps up against them, breaking their kiss apart and nearly toppling them over. Stiles laughs and bends down to wrap her in a hug. Derek looks around bewildered as to how she got out of the car. Standing at the truck door, Elle is staring right back at him with raised eyebrows and an exasperated expression. “Is that anyway to treat your dog, Derek?”

“Hi, Elle,” Stiles greets, straightening up again. His eyes are so bright. Derek loves him so much. “How’s it going?”

She chuckles. “It’s better now that Winnie is happy again. Listen, as much as I enjoyed listening to your very well thought out and articulate love confession, I never wanted to see Derek put his tongue in your mouth. Now I’m scared for life, thanks.”

Derek flushes, mortified. Stiles just sticks his tongue out at her. “Then you shouldn’t have been watching, nosy.”

“Hey, I’ve had to put up with Derek’s wallowing for weeks. I can tease him if I want.” She leans in and kisses Stiles’ cheek. “It is good that you’re back, honestly. We’re happy to have you home. Maybe keep all the werewolf talk to the house though. Calling Derek your professional werewolf lumberjack one true love is cute and all, but it might raise some questions.”

Derek groans and scrubs at his eyes. Stiles just beams. “Fair point, Elle. Fair point.”

She ruffles his hair and pinches Derek’s side. “I’m heading back to the shop, but I expect to see you both at dinner soon, okay. You know, when you can pull yourselves away from one another again.”

They watch her cross the street and then Stiles turns to Derek with a serious expression. “She’s going to be insufferable now, isn’t she?”

It’s Derek’s turn to laugh even though he’s still embarrassed. “Oh yeah.” Something occurs to him. “Although, for the record, if you had just came to the house we could have avoided all of that.”

“That isn’t my fault. Carl refused to drive me all the way there.”

There’s that name again. “Who is Carl?”

“The cab driver. He actually groaned when I was the one who climbed into the car at the airport, poor guy. He said, and I quote, ‘I’m glad you’re back and all, but there is no way I’m taking you to the house. Never again.’”

Rolling his eyes and deciding not to question it, Derek slings his arm around Stiles’ shoulders and leads him back toward the diner, Winnie following closely behind. “You have some very strange interactions with people sometimes,” he says calmly, nodding at Luis as they return to Stiles’ table. The diner is mostly empty which means that she comes over and gets them both some more coffee pretty quickly, winking at Derek as she goes. 

Stiles chuckles. “Yeah, no doubt. But I guess it’s been working out for me, so who am I to complain.”

Something else catches Derek’s attention before he can respond. Sitting tucked beside Stiles in the booth is the small backpack he took from Derek when he left. “Is that all you brought?”

Stiles glances at the bag and shrugs. “Yeah, for now. The team is going to send everything else out in a few days. They’re giving me time to get settled again before that though.”

“You quit and they’re still going to help you out?” Luis comes back with their coffee, ruffling Stiles hair as she goes. Derek think’s it’s funny how much she warmed up to him after the way he showed up that first night, but he keeps that thought to himself. Honestly, it’s really nice how well Stiles gets on with all of his friends. 

Stiles sips at his drink. “When I went in to the office to give them my official statement of resignation, my boss said no.”

Derek pauses right before the mug hits his lips. “He said no?”

“Yup.” Leaning back against his seat, Stiles grins at Derek. “I explained to him why I was done with the job and gave him my letter, and he ripped the whole thing up without reading it and tossed it in the trash.”

Derek doesn’t understand. “Then why are you here?”

“I guess one of my team members came into town to collect me sometime before my boss called and I didn’t know.” Not that he would have. Anya is very good at her job. “We were at dinner when she found me. And seeing how we were interacting made her stay away. Instead of revealing herself and taking me back to headquarters, she left. She told our boss about it and they figured out what to do with me before they finally called me back.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m getting there. Patience, Derek. Anyway, you might have been able to guess it but being a FBI agent working in the supernatural devision is not really a field where you get to meet people. Not a lot of the people working there have families to go home to. Hell, most of them don’t have places they even call home. When Anya saw me with you, she couldn’t imagine separating us again. She lost her mate years ago and so when she found us she saw something worth protecting. Either my boss is a big softie or Anya was very convincing, because even if I hadn’t tried to quit, I was going to be reassigned anyway.”

“Where is your reassignment?”

“Here. With you. I’m no longer a field agent. Instead I’m going to work intelligent. They’re shipping me the computers and other tech so that I can work from the house. I mean, that is, if I can stay.”

Derek snorts. “Stiles this is your home. A ridiculous amount of federal agency tech isn’t going to change that.”

His scent is so warm and pleased. “Good. I-. I don’t want to be anywhere else. Fair warning, Scott is definitely going to want to come and visit. And so will my dad.”

“That’s okay. Just because I left Beacon Hills that doesn’t mean that I refuse to see them. They’re important to you and they’re always welcome here.”

“I want to kiss you so badly,” Stiles says, groaning. Under the table, their knees bump together. Derek decides that, even though they just got their coffee, it’s time to leave.

“Then come on,” he says, reaching out for Stiles hand. “Let’s go home.”

Stiles’ laughter brightens the entire world as he twines their fingers together and repeats the sentiment, “Yeah. Let’s go home.”


End file.
